"Alright," Matthew said, "the next one is about Italy."

He scanned down the page, and was surprised to see another name underlined and in bold, and he frowned slightly. He wasn't sure if was a double entry or not, if those were even a thing, so he began to quickly skim-read the pages to check.

"Is everything alright?" Francis asked the silent Canadian. "Do you want me to read it?"

"Oh, no, it's fine." Matthew replied meekly. It was definitely a double entry; they were linked infinitely. "This is actually one from both Italy and Romano."

"Both of us?" Italy repeated, glancing towards his brother. "What do you think it's about, fratello?"

"If you stopped talking and listened, you'd find out, Veneziano." Romano sighed.

Silence filled the room once more, and all eyes were on Matthew, desperately asking him to continue and intrigued as to what they'd hear. It was a double-page spread, so Canada had a feeling he'd be there for a while, but he didn't mind. So long as his thoughts didn't wander to the wrong places and send him down the incorrect paths for a fifth time, he'd be OK. That's what he repeated to himself. It'll be OK.

"Italy, 29th August, 79AD. It has taken four days to reach the site of the city from Venice. I travelled as quickly as I could (and on three different horses) after I felt the eruption."

"Oh... I understand now..." Italy muttered quietly. Romano stayed perfectly mute, for once.

"Looking across what was once a beautiful city, I cannot describe the dreariness, darkness and despair before me. There is ash everywhere. A scary black that has consumed the land."

Matthew knew what he was reading about was the eruption of Mount Vesuvius and the destruction of Pompeii. He'd never heard either of the Italians in the room talk about it or their experience, so he found it interesting that there was an entry about it, especially from all those centuries ago. And then he realised how young they must've been all that time before; several human years younger than he was now, perhaps.

"I have ventured to the forum, and everywhere I look I can see statues - statues of the city's inhabitants, cast in ash and fear. Maybe the gods were angry with us. If so, I hope they are now satisfied, having murdered the innocent. For once, I believe, I am not truly scared of them..."

"Pfft," Lovino choked, looking to his brother, "really? That's news to me."

"It was never really the same after that day..." Feliciano commented dully. "It don't think I ever went back to respecting the gods with the same conviction after Pompeii was destroyed like that..."

"So, you both believed in the Roman Gods before you were Catholic?" Matthew questioned. He'd never really considered how a change in the country's religion affected its personification. He suddenly felt bad for England.

"Well, Veneziano did." Romano stated. He leant back in his seat, seemingly uninterested in the subject, and he sighed. "I was likely a heathen in our grandfather's eyes. I don't think I ever worshipped one of the ancient gods once. Probably why he didn't like me that much."

"He loved you, fratello, more than he could ever wish to say... You just... Never took the time to notice." Feliciano responded sadly. He had spoken with their beloved grandfather several times about the issue. "You seem to do that a lot, being ignorant to the caring and love that others show you..."

Both Feliciano and Lovino glanced towards Antonio, the older brother doing so only subconsciously, and the trio were locked together for a short moment. Spain, however, looked away within seconds, the chain breaking and the bond cracked irreparably, hearts sinking to their owners' feet in a pool of guilt, regret and sweet sorrow.

"What does the second bit say then?" Antonio asked Matthew.

Lovino noted how Antonio hadn't even said his name and almost felt hurt by it; was this seriously what had become of them? So much time and energy spent by both parties, and it had all been for nothing but a quick glance and a fake smile? Romano wasn't quite willing to settle with that. He'd fix it. Later.

"Well," Canada continued, "There's a final bit to Feliciano's entry first."

"Please, don't wait for us." said Italian replied with a modest smile. Matthew nodded.

"There is one thing that does scare me, however: my brother. The last time we spoke, he said he was heading towards this very city as part of his surveys of the South. That was only a week ago. Something inside me tells me he is here, and I have to find him, no matter how long it takes."

"Aww, that is sweet!" Russia beamed. "There is nothing quite as strong as the bond of a family."

Matthew meekly smiled. Familial bonds, closeness, trust... He wasn't sure if he was convinced by Ivan's words. After all, Alfred had disappeared without more than than a text, and he didn't even come and see if his brother was alright after his panic attack.

'Yeah, that's definitely what family is meant to be.' he thought bitterly.

"But what happened?" China asked, turning to the older Italian. "Were you there or not?"

"Hm, maybe Canada should just keep reading, if you're so desperate to know." Lovino said. He prompted Matthew to continue, so he did.

"Romano, 2nd September, 79AD.  Veneziano has insisted that I keep you with me at all times. I don't see why. You really seem pointless. Still, I suppose I'd better use you before Veneziano starts to complain."

"And that was the first time I ever wrote in a journal, and I am sad to say that it was not the last." Romano added. "Thanks a bunch, fratellino..."

"You're welcome, fratello!" Feliciano smiled humbly, completely missing the sarcasm in his brother's tone.

"So, yes. I was in Pompeii when Vesuvius erupted and everything I was supposed to look after was destroyed, burnt or killed. I survived, but only because of where I'd been standing, and even then it took four days for me to see the light again. I have to thank my brother for that."

"Oh, so, you were under all the-"

"Just keep going!" Romano interrupted, frowning at Matthew. He didn't intend to be mean about it, he just wanted to move on as quickly as possible. They couldn't keep stopping like this if they were going to finish and go home; that was all he wanted now.

"Apparently he'd decided to walk among the city looking for anyone who may be alive and happened to find me in a pile of ash and no doubt, the ashes of our people. He is the only reason I am still here. I owe him my life. But now, I fear, I am going to be haunted by what happened in the city of Pompeii... I don't want to go back there... I don't want to see them all die again..."

"Finito."

"Thank fuck."

"Oh, there's a little note tagged onto the end of this one." Matthew said, surprised.

"Sorry for any mis-translation — I may or may not have paraphrased. The originals were in Latin, and I chose to forget that language a long time ago."

"What an odd detail to include... Do you think they're slowly dropping hints as to who they are?" Arthur speculated. "I mean, whoever made this book?"

"Unintentionally, perhaps." Ludwig mused. "I doubt they would want to give away their identity. They'd know we'd probably give them a hard time for pulling this little stunt."

"I would hardly call it little!" Romano voiced, pent up frustration fuelling the fire. "This... This is life and death stuff, here. I almost fucking died back in that city, and none of you knew that until just now! I am sorry, but... I stand by what I said earlier — this is an invasion of privacy!"

Gilbert rolled his eyes yet again on the other side of London; perhaps the sixth time that day, all a result of others claiming that what he and Peter did was wrong and unfair and whatever else spewed from their mouths. He could understand... To an extent. But what annoyed him is that no one else was able to see how beneficial that journal was, besides perhaps Italy, Germany and England. Most of the others didn't respect that. He hated it.

As he'd been listening, Prussia had occasionally heard the bored sighs of a certain micronation through headphones. Though, perhaps bored is the wrong term to use. Fed-up would be a better word choice, and Gilbert felt the same. He was fed-up with it all, but that was the point, was it? This had gone too far, and now, whether they liked it or not, the world would learn.

"Well..." Matthew said, breaking the silence, feeling somewhat awkward after Lovino's short outburst. "Should I do the next one too? It's only an observation, thankfully."

"If you would like to," Francis nodded, "I am sure no one will mind."

He knew it was good for the Canadian; something to keep his young mind preoccupied and busy, and far far away from the troubling thoughts that would possibly lead to a relapse. That was the last thing he wanted for Matthew.

Canada obliged. "OK, this one is about Yao."

The wise old Asian sat up straight in his seat upon hearing his name, curiosity and interest finally piqued. He just hoped it wasn't like the last observation about himself...

"China. His siblings all care for him, and even if they don't act like it, they will always be stood by his side. And he would do the same for them in a heartbeat."

"And once more, blood proves to be thicker than water." Ivan said proudly. He thought of his own sisters, and could only smile at their unique relationship, before the smile turned slightly sour.

Yao hummed quietly. "It is true. I don't care what they have done or what I have done, my siblings will always be my priority. And, yes, that includes you, Japan."

The Japanese personification nodded in thanks and mutuality, a weak smile appearing on his face before it disappeared again. He certainly felt the same, and would willingly go to war for the sales of his extensive family, but sometimes family was not perfect, loving or homely... Sometimes, family was the worst of things, becoming a curse and burden. He mentally shook away from the shackles of such poisonous thoughts, however, as Yao continued.

"I will take over now, if you want, Canada." China offered, smiling.

"Of course, if you're happy to." Matthew replied. He held out the book for Yao, who took it gratefully, and gave a smile to Francis as the book left his custody. He felt better. Happier. He honestly just felt good. "What's the next one?"

China flicked to the next page. "The Magic Trio, apparently." he said, pausing for a moment in contemplation. "Hey, is that that freaky kids club of yours, Opium?"

England scoffed. "Kids club? You're kidding me, right? I think myself, Norway and Romania would have a few things to say about that, so watch your mouth..." he frowned, agitated. "Unless you want your house infested with toads and wasps ready for your return, that is."

"You wouldn't dare." Yao retorted with a threatening glance.

"Trust me, he would." Francis responded. He was speaking from experience. "You have to treat magic with a certain respect, even if we can't see Arthur's imaginary friends-"

"They aren't imaginary! You're just blind!"

"At least I know what good food tastes like-!"

"At least I can fight-!"

England was interrupted by the surprising sound of a phone vibrating harshly against the wood of the conference table. Everyone stopped and looked towards the guilty device, and its owner reached for it slowly, unsure of what to expect. They looked at the ID. They frowned. They turned it off, sighed, and let the meeting continue undisturbed, unaware of why their brother — whom they did indeed care for deeply, despite all his annoying, loud attributes — was calling them at such a time.

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I am really sorry this took so long and I haven't updated any of my books recently! Plzdontkillme! ibeg! ;w;
*goes into hiding*