North Italy, Veneziano,
remembered the day it all started. He and Germany had been training
as usual, the giddy happy Italian doing his usual "salute and
then fall asleep, sing or eat" thing, the serious but secretly
loving German sighing and running a hand through his hair before
hitting Veneziano; Japan had been there too and could only watch in
part horror and part amazement as Veneziano started to cry and
Germany could only sigh painedly and pat the Napolatian on the head.
The two kept on talking at great length, one angrily explaining how
that was the wrong answer, one saying sorry over and over; Japan was
starting to wonder why he was part of this group, this strange trio
of nations who were more comedy group than danger to the Allies. If
there was Allies anymore; World War Two had ended long ago but still
they trained together like that, he suspected it was because they
just couldn't bring themselves to part ways.
He sighed after a
while and looked away to the East, watching the slowly raising sun
for a moment before he saw something; another blazing light go up
into the endless twilit sky only to crash back down suddenly and
explode into a larger display of light and what he knew to be smoke.
A large cloud of smoke.
A large mushroom-shaped cloud of smoke.
He
paled, "g-g-guys?"
Veneziano was surprised by Nihon's
interruption; he looked at Japan, even making Germany pause,
"Nihon?"
"i-i believe.....we need to go inside
now," he said trying to calm down despite the familiar fear, the
dread, the knowledge of what that /thing/ represented. Death.
Terrible, horrible, painful and sometimes slow death.
Italy
readied to complain, he liked being outside, but Germany trusted the
Asian nation so he grabbed the little brunette pasta-loving idiot and
dragged him inside his house, followed by Japan. Japan found a spot
to sit by the window to watch though his heart didn't think he could
take it. Veneziano looked over at the Asian nation, worried, his
playful grin wiped off his face; something was horribly wrong, he
knew it, he felt it. Others called him useless but really he was just
a different kind of smart. He looked up at Germany with the blonde
appearing ever stoic, "Doitsu, what's going on?"
"shhh,
Italy, not now." the German sounded gentle for once, as if it
wasn't really Doitsu but someone Italy knew from long ago. For what
had to be the trillionth time Italy envisioned an older Holy Roman
Empire, his first and truest love.
He whined but turned his
attention to the window to watch with his two best friends as the
world most literately came to an end.
A week passed quickly;
world war three had been started. From what little intel Germany had
been able to collect the start had seemed to center around China,
Russia and of course America; the three were fighting and others were
joining in and everyone who got involved, or simply forced to involve
themselves, were suffering.
Italy was happy they weren't getting
involved, him and Germany both at least; Japan seemed ever uneasy,
moving from his seat by the window very often only to pace a bit and
return. Veneziano tried to use pasta to relieve the stress but Japan
refused food most of the time; Germany for once gladly took it. The
German actually seemed the calmest of the group, usually that being
Japan's position; Germany spent hours using whatever means he could
to collect information on what was going on outside without having to
leave. God knew what might happen if they left. No, they knew too;
nuclear warfare was horrible and they knew they'd never
survive.
Veneziano was in the kitchen, humming songs to himself to
keep from crying, he hadn't seen his brother in a week and no girls
in a week and no soccer either, when he heard voices in the other
room, Japan and Germany arguing.
"we should go assist
them."
"Japan, you're not thinking rationally; if we go
out there the fallout will kill us!"
"we can't start
neutral forever though! Russia will come here next and he'll bomb
your land to death unless you actually /do/ something other than read
information and eat pasta. You're turning into Italy!"
Silence.
Italy totally stopped to listen, his head pressed again the wall to
listen, then once more Germany spoke, "let go ahead then, leave
and don't come back; I'm sure your brother or the idiot America can
help you if you get radiation posioning. If there's any part of you
left to help after those bombs hit you that is."
Silence
again then footsteps turning; Italy paled and came out, crying now,
"Nihon, wait! Please don't go!"
Both Germany and Japan
looked at Italy, the former looking a bit shocked though it was
understandable that Italy would be listening in, the latter looking
also surprised. Italy went on; "stay here, with us, its safer,
we can survive this out together! Please....don't go out there and
get yourself killed, Nihon-kun."
Japan's look of surprise
changed to that consisting of a soft but sad smile; it was the look
comparable only to that of a soldier going to war but saying good-bye
to his family and loved ones one last time. Yes, Germany and Italy
had become more like family in the time they'd spent together than
just allies, Japan knew that, he understood it.
"I'm sorry,
Italy," he said turning again to go to the door, hand upon the
doorknob, "I.....I really would have been happy here if I didn't
feel I was needed," he opened the door and a gust of hot air
from outside rushed in, causing both Germany and Italy to shut their
eyes and turn away; Japan of course could not, "I'm sure we'll
meet again soon though."
"Nihon...." Italy said
softly, painedly, unable to look though.
Japan's hand clenched his
katana in his hand, the ever-faithful weapon feeling both heavy and
light in the same motion; he closed his eyes for a moment then set
out outside, closing the door behind him.
"Nihon!!"
Italy called out, finally looking to find his friend gone; he reached
out for the door but found nothing. He and Germany were alone and he
could feel that that would be the last time the whole three of them
would be together.
And so Veneziano cried.
Veneziano*sniffs* Nihon!
Kiku:
what?
Veneziano*hugs* don't leave me ever!
Arthur*sighs* this
is only part one of two; Vene could easily continue right now but it
just feels like it might flow better in two parts. The second part
will probably be longer and much sadder.
Veneziano*crying
loudly*
Kiku*just letting him*
