I develop obsessions rather quickly, don't I? As soon as I finished watching Ib (I'd play it but I'm horrible at video games, sadly) I knew I had to make a Hetalia crossover. With USUK, of course. It won't be the exactly the same as Ib, but the situation will be the similar. The character's reactions, however, will be a bit different. And for the ending I'm using… Well, you'll just have to see. *evil laugh*

I'll be using human names, just because. They are still countries, however.

Warning: Eventual yaoi. Don't like, don't read.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the idea, all rights go to their respective owners.


Red Rose, Blue Rose

Chapter One

"Iggggy…!" The American whined as he dragged his feet over the sidewalk. "I don't wanna go to some dusty old museum, that's so boring!"

"Some culturing will do you good!" sniffed Arthur in return. "You're always bugging me that you want to see around my country when you visit, and yet you start whining when I actually try to take you somewhere! And don't call me that!"

"That's because I wanted to go to a pub or that rockin' Ferris wheel! Not to look at some boring paintings!" he said, ignoring Arthur's usual rebuke about his nickname.

Arthur gave Alfred a look. "These paintings were done by the recently late Guertena. I doubt even you would find them boring, his stuff has a tendency to be abstract and unusual, to say the least. "

Alfred grinned. "Abstract… Unusual… Hey, it's like your cooking!"

"Shut up, git!"

The pair continued to bicker until they were at the doors of the gallery.

"Now Alfred," Arthur began. "I want you to behave yourself here. No running, no yelling, no touching the exhibits. You will be reflecting me and your country by your behavior in here. So I expect you to act your finest." Under his breath, he added, "Not that I'm expecting much."

Alfred rolled his eyes, a common act whenever Iggy put his lecture voice on. "Yeah, yeah, I get it." As he looked around, his shoulders slumped even further. All the people here looked as dull as the painting themselves. Ugh… All he wanted was to spend more time with Arthur. He hadn't expected to be dragged to some exhibit to an dead artist.

They said he was completely oblivious to how other people felt, but Arthur could be just as clueless. Or stubborn. Or both, Alfred thought with a small chuckle.

The man behind the counter coughed slightly. Alfred started as he realized he had been zoning out of whatever Iggy was trying to say to him. "Oh, um… Yeah, he was a great artist!" He gave him a cheeky smile and laughed.

The Brit massaged his temple. "I was asking if you wanted a pamphlet, idiot." The man behind the counter gave Arthur a sympathetic look, as if to say Americans. What can you do about 'em?

"Oh. No thanks, bro. I'm cool with just looking."

Arthur turned back to the man with a snort. "I saw you have the famous painting The Abyss of the Deep here. Is that the original, or is it a reproduction for exhibitation? I've recently taken an interest in art restoration, you see, and I've heard art reproduction and restoration are very similar in nature…."

Alfred slipped away as soon as Arthur began talking about the technicalities of art. It sounded way uninteresting and it was too early in the morning to be thinking about scientific stuff. He decided to go to the hallway to his right, where the majority of the people were gathering.

In the center of the room there was a monstrous painting, surrounded by ropes to keep the visitors from touching it. A shiver passed through his spine as he peered at it. It depicted a variety of creatures that must have represented what the fish of the deep sea look like. The biggest was an eel that leered out at, Alfred could have sworn, specifically him.

He leaned forward, trying to read what the caption said. Half of it was blocked by a particularly large woman, so all he could make out was …Of the Deep. Huh. There were other paintings and exhibits in the room, but Alfred was so unnerved that he didn't want to stay in the room for another second.

Walking quickly, as not to break Arthur's no running rule, he escaped to the second story of the gallery. Dimly he registered that Arthur was no longer talking to the man behind the counter. He probably went to got look for me or to the restroom or something. It's not like anything could happen to him here, it was an art gallery for crying out loud!

There was a few sculptures on the main room of the second floor. Alfred frowned as he tried to puzzle them out. Headless mannequins and a sofa… The latter he could relate to, at least. Boy, what he wouldn't give to sit down on one right now. Unfortunately, the female security guard was giving him a death glare that rivaled Sauron's, so he decided to move on to the paintings hung on the wall.

These were strange and often grotesque. One even pictured a man being hung by his ankle, a prison number pinned onto his shirt. Man, what was with this guy? All paintings didn't have to be dark and horrible! In the next hallway, the paintings were pretty much all of the same nature. Even a seemingly innocent painting of a lady in a red dress gave him the heebie-jeebies. Suddenly, Alfred had a very strong urge to go and find Iggy. And no, it wasn't because he was scared! Uh uh, that wasn't the case.

After passing a bunch of works named after words he didn't understand, Alfred came across a hallway with a lone mural displayed in it, which looked like it had been done in crayon. "….World." he said aloud, again only knowing one of the two words. Curse those British artists and their fancy titles! Couldn't they be called something simple, like "Painting #4"? Now that was something he could understand.

Just as Alfred stepped forward to inspect the mural more closely, the lights went out. A very unheroic cry of terror burst from his lips as he was plunged into darkness. A few seconds later, the lights seemed to reluctantly flicker back on, and some part of him felt embarrassed of his fear. The other half of him, however, felt like he was going to pee his pants. Yep, he was definitely going to, er, go check on Arthur. Yeah, that's what he was going to do. Completely ignoring the rules by now, he sprinted back to where the other visitors were earlier.

Except, they weren't there. Nobody was there. Not even the Lord of Dar-security lady. His brow furrowed. They were here just a second ago, there should still be somebody left in the room. There was no announcement of the gallery closing, either, he was sure of that. M-Maybe they all just happened to go downstairs or to other rooms. There were more exhibits, right? Taking the steps two by two, he flew down to the other level.

Then he froze. The man behind the counter was gone as well. An employee would never leave their station unless they were relieved by the next shift of workers. Even in his country, that much was true. Something was horribly wrong.

"Hello…? Anybody here?" No response. "Somebody, please answer me! This isn't funny, stop hiding!" Still, nobody replied. No no no no no!

Wandering the empty halls, Alfred felt a growing sense of dread. It was impossible for them to all disappear like that. He had tried the downstairs doors and windows too, and they were locked. That means somebody had to have locked them. Th-Them locking on their own was impossible.

Impossible, impossible! Everything about this situation was impossible! He was going to have to tell Arthur that-

As soon as the thought hit him, he blanched. He'd forgotten all about the smaller man in his terror. But he hadn't seen a trace of Arthur during his entire search either.

That only meant one thing. Arthur had vanished as well.