Disclaimer: Russia/Ivan Braginski, America/Alfred F. Jones, Canada/Matthew Williams & England/Arthur Kirkland copyright Hidekaz Himaruya.
"Is simple, da?"
Click.
"Just pull the trigger...."
Cling, cling, cling.
"....and the loser is the one covered in blood."
Chick.
"Haha! Yeah! Too easy. Of course, you know I'm gonna win. I am the HERO, after all. Even senile, old England knows! Right, England?"
Click.
"What did you just call me, you ungrateful git?! I'll show you senile!"
Whirrrr.... chick.
"A-Alfred.... are you sure this is a good idea?"
"Of course I am! The hero's always right, Matt! Stop worrying!"
America flashed his brother a confident grin from where he sat at the table, expertly hiding his fear behind a mask of confidence. Canada gave a small smile of his own, holding Kumajirou tightly to his chest. The four were in a conference room, a world meeting having ended mere minutes ago. Arthur and Alfred had still been arguing over the Cold War, and Matthew had been trying- and failing- to make peace between the two. Ivan, too, had stayed behind, but only to propose a deal to Alfred.
"This Cold War.... is very tiring, da? You are looking worse for the wear, comrade-"
"Don't call me that, you commie bastard." Alfred growled.
"Alfred! Language! Just because you're enemies, that does not give you the freedom to curse at your opponent!" Arthur scolded, wagging finger and all.
"You hypocrite! You and France haven't been real enemies in years, but that doesn't stop byou/b from cussing him out all the time!"
"Why, I never-!"
"Guys! Come on! Let's not fight.... Please?" Matthew tried, though he was blatantly ignored.
"Who?" Kunajirou asked, looking up at his owner. Canada just gave a dejected sigh in response.
Ivan simply smiled. "Now, now. I did not stay to fight, Amerika. I have a proposition for you. A way to end this war quickly and easily-"
"It isn't 'becoming one with Russia,' is it?" Alfred interrupted, brows furrowed.
This time Russia let out a chuckle. "No, no. I already know your answer to that offer. It is a simple game, one I have grown fond of and have used often to settle these disputes."
Alfred's interest was caught at the word "game," and he had to admit that he was curious. "What are the conditions?" he asked warily.
Ivan smiled, clasping his gloved hands together in front of him. "If I win, you will leave Russia be and stop bringing up the topic in world meetings."
That seemed reasonable enough. "And when I win? Because I will, since I'M the hero!" Arthur facepalmed at the American's bold words.
"Then I will stop threatening you with nuclear and will no longer provide China with military aid," Russia answered pleasantly, shocking all three blonds.
Alfred's eyes narrowed in suspicion of the high stakes. "What's the game?"
Arthur seemed as if he was about to argue, but Ivan quickly interrupted him by pulling a revolver from his coat. "Russian Roulette."
So now here they were, seated at one end of the long table. Alfred and Ivan sat on either side, facing off, while Arthur and Matthew flanked their ally. Ivan had emptied the revolver of its ammo, then slid one bullet into the barrel and let it spin closed. He now held out the gun to Alfred, ever-present smile plastered onto his face.
"Since you are new to this, you may go first. What the English call 'common courtesy,' da?" he asked, glancing Arthur.
Said man "harumphed" and crossed his arms over his chest, obviously trying to hide his obvious concern for his ex-colony. "He's right. As foolish and unprecedented as this is, mind the manners I taught you-"
"Yeah, yeah, Iggy. You tell me at least five times a day. Besides, the hero always goes first!" Alfred interrupted, grabbing the profferred gun and placing it to his temple with a grin. He didn't even hesitate or pause, so wrapped up in his own awesome glory that he immediately pulled the trigger.
Click.
Both Matthew and Arthur gave sighs of relief, though Arthur hid his horribly behind a cough. "There. See? Nothing to worry about! Besides, not like I'll actually die or anything.... I'm a country, not a human," he ranted as Ivan took the revolver.
The Russian man laughed and turned his violet gaze to the Englishman, who had suddenly grown very uncomfortable. Canada, too, seemed to be in some sort of discomfort and even guilt. America, seeing their reactions, blinked and looked around at the three in childlike curiosity. "What? What happened? Something I said??"
"I'm surprised at you, England. Keeping that little tidbit from your once most precious colony? It seems like his brother knows, but has he kept the truth from Amerika as well?" Ivan was grinning like the cat that caught the canary, making a shiver run down all three spines.
"Arthur? Mattie? Kept what from me?" Alfred questioned, looking at each of his fellow blonds in turn. The insatiable curiosity and excitement of learning something new about himself easily hid his underlying worry and apprehension.
The other two blonds exchanged frowns and guilty glances, silently deciding who would speak. With a heavy sigh, Arthur finally tore his gaze from Matthew to look at Alfred and spoke. "Alfred, you see, there.... there's something you should know about.... our kind. Something I should have told you a long time ago, when you first gained your independence...."
Alfred couldn't contain his frown at his ex-big brother's somber words. "Iggy.... what is it? What have you kept from me?" He couldn't hide the light tone of betrayal in his voice, either.
Arthur winced at that tone, but then furrowed his large brows and continued. "Alfred, countries CAN die. Yes, we're stronger than humans and certainly more resilient. We have to be. But, Alfred, think for a moment.... invasions, civil war, failure and collapse.... There are many ways for a nation to disappear, to be replaced, to.... to die...."
It took a moment for the blue-eyed, bespectacled country to quite literally remove his slackened jaw from the table. Ivan merely watched, amused as he held the revolver loosely in his gloved hand. Matthew's amethyst gaze seemed to be studying the grain of the wooden table they all sat at, as if trying to memorize the many grooves and patterns. Finally, Alfred found his voice, sounding surprised but not worried.
"Okay.... I get that. But, Artie, this isn't any of those things. I've been shot before and lived...." he argued.
Arthur sighed in slight exasperation and rubbed at his bushy brows in an effort to ward off the oncoming headache. "Alfred, you bloody twit, THINK. A bullet to the brain? That's practically bombing your capital! It could place you out of commission for a very, very long time. Long enough for one of those aforementioned events to happen. It-"
"Alfred, this may not kill you, but it could lead to that...." Matthew, shockingly, interrupted Arthur, surprising even Ivan seeing as they'd all forgotten he was present; though he merely went back to smiling and raised the gun to his head.
"What is wrong, comrade? Do not tell me you are scared. I thought heroes feared nothing. Especially not one little bullet. Do you surrender now, hm? If you do, then I win by forfeit, you know," he cooed happily, even going so far as to giggle.
Alfred grimaced, cringing a little at the sound but quickly regaining his composure as he glared at the smiling man and pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You! You knew about this! You fucking commie bastard!! Is this some kind of trick?! You could put yourself out of commission as much as me!" Of course, he'd known the nation was crazy, but this was ridiculous.
But Ivan merely smiled, held that childlike expression plastered on his face, and pulled the trigger.
Click.
"Only four left now, da? But do you still have the courage- or was it just over-confidence?- to pull the trigger?" he asked, holding the gun out to Alfred. The blond swallowed nervously, reaching hand hesitant for a moment before snatching up the revolver. His sky blue eyes stared down at it, wondering when the crafted lump of metal had become so menacing.
"Y-You don't have to d-do this, Alfred...." Matthew whispered shakily, his own violet eyes wide with fear for his brother.
Said nation's grip tightened on the weapon, feeling its sharp angles through the material of his black gloves. He glanced up at Ivan, who wore that same damn smile, always that SMILE. Brows furrowing and mouth turning down into a frown, Alfred raised gun to the side of his temple for a second time. "I'm not going to forfeit. Heroes never give up to anyone- especially not twisted, psychotic sadists like you."
Ivan's smile merely grew in response; he could see that the American was terrified, the revolver rattling lightly in his grasp. Arthur, meanwhile, gawked at his former colony for a moment before facepalming. "Alfred, you wanker, what in the Queen's name do you think-"
"Why didn't you tell me?" Said nation cut in sharply, voice cold and tone flat; even his gaze was frozen straight ahead.
Arthur blinked, taken aback, and began to stutter in confusion. "Wh-what? Alfred, I-"
This time the bespectacled blond did look at his companion, turning his head to face the man he once looked up to with the barrel of the gun still pressed to his skull. "You know what I mean. Why. Didn't. You. Tell me? Why, Arthur?" he dead-panned. Sure, maybe Alfred was wasting time to try and hold off the inevitable; but he still wanted to know the answer.
Arthur swallowed tightly, unnerved by Alfred's expression and tone of voice; he hadn't seen the other this way in a long, long time. Sighing heavily, he knew that he had no choice but to answer the other. "Alfred, I.... I just.... I didn't tell you when you were a colony, because it wasn't something you needed to worry about then. Yes, you could be conquered, but you wouldn't disappear. And then.... after our.. our 'falling out,' I was upset and angry with you. I was bitter. So I didn't tell you, hoping the fact that I kept it from you would come back to haunt you." 'And then you became so strong.... I didn't think anything could kill you,' he wanted to finish, but couldn't force out the words.
For a few dreadfully long moments, Alfred was silent, their combined breath and the tick of the clock on the wall contributing to the only sound in the large room. Then, he sighed heavily, shoulders slumping as his age showed quite clearly for a rare moment in time. Turning his head around, his gaze now rested on his brother, a slight frown on his face. "Mattie.... how did you know? And why didn't you tell me?"
Matthew frowned uncomfortably, squeezing the polar bear in his arms a little tighter against his hoodie. "F-France told me.... even before I gained my independence.... I-I didn't pass it on to you, because.... b-because-"
"Because I imploringly swore your brother to secrecy, Alfred. That's why," Arthur interrupted, eyebrows furrowed seriously and his mouth set into a firm line. Matthew gaped at the older blond in obvious shock and confusion, but the Englishman just met his gaze in silence.
"That true, Matt?" Alfred asked quietly. Canada didn't answer for a moment, but at last sighed softly and gave a nod. Turning back around to face his opposition, the American held a fearful resolve on his face as his index finger pressed lightly against the trigger. "I meant what I said. I'm not giving up. Not this time," he muttered darkly. Though what he'd been referring to might not have been obvious for once, he had meant the Korean and Vietnam Wars. America hadn't technically lost the war, but they were unable to stop the advance of Communism. And so here they were now.
Ivan had sat back and watched the scene unfold in obvious amusement, the calm smile never leaving his pale face. It was rare to see the powerful nation looking so betrayed and vulnerable as he nervously shook in his seat, the suppressed fear shining quite clearly in his eyes to the Russian. He drank it all in, imagining what it would be like to have the man under his thumb like he'd had so many others before. The thought made Ivan hum happily to himself, though the pleasant feeling was short-lived as Alfred finally returned his attention to the task at hand and spoke to him again. "Of course, I believe you. Go ahead, then. We are waiting, Amerika...." he replied smoothly.
Alfred ground his teeth together behind his tightly sealed lips, feeling his shaking hand rattle the gun against his hair and skin. He couldn't understand how Ivan was so calm when his country was as much at stake as his own was. 'Four bullets left.... four bullets.... Come on, Alfred. You can do this! You've accomplished harder things in your life! Pull the damn trigger already, PULL IT!!!' he thought, squeezing his eyes shut.
....click.
There was a collective sigh of relief in the room, all but Ivan and Kumajirou having let one go at the soft noise of the revolver clicking and rotating harmlessly. Arthur looked like he was about ready to either pass out from his nerves, throttle Alfred for his risky behavior, or just get up and walk out. Matthew, meanwhile, just felt like doing the former and nothing else, but forced himself to remain conscious and support his brother. Pairs of sapphire, emerald, and amethyst watched as Ivan accepted the gun from Alfred, not appearing to be nervous, worried, or fearful in the least. On the contrary, he looked as if he was having as much fun as one might have on a picnic as he raised the revolver to his own cool temple and squeezed the trigger.
Click.
"Hmm~ Interesting.... usually, someone would be dead by now, da? This has lasted all the way to the end.... just two more bullets. This is the deciding round, kolkolkolkolkol...." Ivan mused, ending his words with his strange, dark laughter that even made countries like Prussia, Denmark, and Turkey cringe and shiver in fear. In any case, it made the blond trio do such, though Alfred took less time to take the gun from his opponent's open palm.
Swallowing down his nerves, he gave a shaky grin and lifted the revolver for the last time. "Y-Yeah, right.... what'd I tell ya? It won't fire on me, and then you'll lose.... 'cause I'm the hero.... Just had to keep everyone else in suspense!" he claimed vigorously. 'All right, this is it. There's no way you can lose. Not now. Not when you're so close. Just pull the trigger and be done with it. Just think about your winnings.... I can't wait to rub this in that communist's shocked face when I win!' he thought excitedly, grin becoming genuine.
Ivan propped his elbow onto the table, resting his chin against his gloved fist and smiling calmly as he watched Alfred. Eyes shadowed by his pale bangs, he quietly continued to chuckle under his breath in that strange, demented way of his. Matthew was too busy watching his brother to catch on, but Arthur had lived too many centuries to miss the subtle hints in Ivan's stance. Green eyes widening in realization, his mouth opened in a silent gasp and he threw himself at his ex-colony in a rush. "A-Alfred, wait, don't-!!"
BANG!!!!
The loud recoil of the revolver firing was followed by the crash of wood hitting wood, then metal bouncing off of wood as the gun skittered across the floor. Alfred's chair had fallen onto its back to the ground from the force of the shot, and he now lay slumped back in it with his arms flung haphazardly about his head. His glasses were halfway off his head, and the frame that had been closest to the barrel had several cracks running through the glass.
"ALFRED!!!"
Both Arthur and Matthew shrieked at the same time, the Canadian carelessly dropping Kumajirou as they kneeled down beside the unconscious nation with worry and fear etched harshly into their faces. Alfred's brother could only crouch there and shake, his hands hiding half of his face from view as the Englishman checked the American's head. One side of it was covered in blood, contrasting sharply with the golden locks and dripping steadily to the wooden floor of the meeting room. Neither country heard Ivan push his chair back and stand, nor did they see him slowly and calmly make his way around the table so as to retrieve his revolver. However, just as he was bending over to pick up the weapon, Arthur let out a gasp.
"Wh-what the bloody Hell?! This isn't Alfred's blood! It's.... it's.... pig's blood! Not even human! There's no bullet wound, for Queen Elizabeth's sake!! IVAN!!! What is the meaning of this?!" he shouted up at the taller male, the anger obvious in his tone.
Ivan remained completely calm as he straightened, shoving the gun back into the folds of his long coat before giving Arthur a cool smile. "I believe I said, 'the loser is the one covered in blood,' da? Alfred is covered in blood, so he is the loser. I said nothing about actual injury. Can it be helped if you English enjoy jumping to conclusions?" he asked cheerfully. By this point, Arthur was fuming, having leaped to his feet and about ready to attack the other nation for his trick. Matthew was doing his best to hold him back, simultaneously trying to talk sense into the furious blond and calm him down.
"You.... you.... dirty bastard! Resorting to such underhanded methods! Matthew, release me at once!!"
"A-Arthur!! C-Calm down, please! I don't need you getting hurt, too! Even if that wasn't a real bullet, the impact of whatever hit Alfred knocked him out!! PLEASE, Arthur!"
Ivan held his smile, not threatened in the least by the far shorter man as he lifted a gloved hand to give a short wave. "I must be going now, gentleman. I am a busy man. I did enjoy our game, though. I hope we can play again- all of us, next time. I will see you at the next world meeting~" With that said, he turned on his heel and exited the room, leaving one enraged blond and one exhausted blond to deal with the unconscious blond on the floor.
"Сколько блондинкам оно принимает для того чтобы снять пушку для русской занятности? 3. Одно для того чтобы поставить пушку, одно к цели, и одно для того чтобы вытянуть пуск."
Translation:
"How many blonds does it take to shoot a gun for Russian amusement? Three. One to supply the gun, one to aim, and one to pull the trigger."