Chapter 4: Recall
Following Japan's statement, the Germanic nations proceeded to act accordingly.
Prussia stared, dumbfounded, while Germany seemed to exhale a jet of steam from his nose.
"Nein!" They both shouted simultaneously.
"What do you mean-" Germany began furiously, as at the same time Prussia protested : "But you'll need my awesome skills to-"
Japan held up a hand apologetically. "Please listen to what I have to say." He said quietly. "If any of us get separated - and believe me, that situation is highly likely if we are to venture out together - then we would have wasted our time tracking everyone down. I believe we are in agreement that we should not stay in this place longer than necessary?" He received a reluctant affirmative from the brothers. "Moreover, in terms of physical speed, I am somewhat faster than the both of you. Therefore, should I chance upon this creature, I have more chance of getting away without having to spend valuable time and energy on engaging in battle."
Both Germanic nations stared at him until he developed a sudden desire to shrink into the wall.
Then Prussia flopped onto the bed with a gusty sigh, causing a cloud of dust to escape into the air. "Weeeell..." He drawled, dragging the word out like gum stuck between a parting pair of tongs. "I suppose he has a point... though I feel the height of unawesomness letting him out alone." He smirked at Japan. "Hey, y' know, you start talking really formally when you're stating an argument? It's like you're trying to verbally write an essay on the spot."
Japan did not know that. He supposed it was a result of hours spent with a shockingly patient England on the subject of English rhetorics in the beginnings of the Anglo-Japanese Alliance.
He turned his gaze downward. Another ally betrayed.
Germany was still protesting. "- wouldn't it be better if-"
"Nein nein nein nein nein nein nein." Prussia sang with hands over his ears, effectively blocking out all attempts at persuasion from Germany. "I think I'm with Japan on this one. We'd see little Italy safe and whining much quicker this way, nein? Besides-"
Japan smiled briefly. Another thing about Prussia; while he was nigh on impossible to reason with, once he was convinced, he was going to stay that way no matter what. And he was one of those people who wouldn't balk at kidnapping a government or two to get his way.
"-and you can even tie his shoelaces for him, baby brother." Prussia finished cheerfully. Germany shot him a chilling stare, huffed, and sat down on the bed as well.
"... Ja." Germany agreed reluctantly, blue eyes troubled. His brows furrowed as he looked back at Japan. "Be quick, soldier. And don't die."
Japan smiled faintly. He used to say that sort of thing all the time during the war. It gave Japan a sense of deja vu. What was it that the Westerners say? Ah, yes, 'a trip down the memory lane', wasn't it?
He snapped a salute. "Yes, Captain."
Germany waved him off dismissively, seemingly uninterested. But Japan could feel his eyes boring into his back every step of the way to the door.
It had been barely an hour on the road when disaster reared its ugly head, gave a nasty leer, and struck.
Canada found a relatively pleasant patch of grass and sat down to watch the proceedings. He was surprised it had taken this long. He had begun to develop a queer feeling of unease when the first fifteen minutes had passed and nobody had 'accidentally' punched, kicked, steel-piped or hexed anybody.
Alas, that state of peace was not destined for a long life. Canada almost felt relieved when the first punch went flying through the air to connect violently with an unprotected jaw.
Somewhere past the one hour mark, France had 'accidently' shoved England into a bush, claiming his green uniform blended in so well he had not seen him there. America apparently found this highly amusing, as he started to laugh hysterically in the background. Then England had gotten up and 'accidentally' kneed France in the nether regions and punched America in the jaw as he 'tripped', citing disorientation from his brief union with a bush as the cause.
America, reeling from the backlash of England's fist to his jaw, had coincidentally fallen into Russia with such force that the taller nation had been bowled over.
Chaos ensued.
China seated himself next to Canada and pushed a wicker basket toward him. "Have a dumpling.".
Canada accepted with thanks.
"I still can't believe we won the war, aru." China commented absently.
"Mm." Canada agreed through a mouthful.
"Who?" Kumanio murmured sleepily as he awoke briefly at the smell of the dumplings.
"Canada." Canada offered him a part of his dumpling, which was devoured in seconds.
They sat and watched the show in companionable silence from then on.
When the brawling nations finally declared a ceasefire out of sheer exhaustion, the combatants trudged wearily from the battlefield and helped themselves to the offered refreshments. England had gotten away with just a black eye and a bitten tongue, while Russia bore coloured patches all around his face. France, for some reason or another, had a constant stream of miniature rose petals falling out of his left nostril, while America found himself speaking in fluent Hippopotamus. England looked mightily pleased with himself at that, although he was muttering something under his breath about not being able to hit France with an eternity of physical amphibianhood, more's the pity. All combatants bore bruises bearing striking similarities to a certain steel pipe.
China hopped to his feet and began to berate the crestfallen nations roundly, then with an air of exasperation, proceeded to massage the fallen warriors with such vengeance that the screams must have travelled halfway to the moon. The one good thing about that being it gave the warring nations a common subject to complain about, thus preventing any further infighting.
Canada sighed through his nose. Once again, he had been consigned to the background. He was starting to regret going along with the whole idea. Haunted mansion? Count him out. Canada had never really gotten into the whole thrill-seeking business anyway.
... Oh dear, they had now begun a massive free-for-all food fight. There goes America's burger down England's top. Seriously, Canada was beginning to suspect America had actually managed to invent inflatable burgers. That was the only plausible reason he could keep pulling them out of what seemed like thin air.
"Who?" Kumanhar murmured.
"Canada." Canada sighed for the umpteenth time.
It was in that moment China finally flew off his rocker with incredible vehemence, bringing chaos and immense pain to all battling miscreants at the scene. He always was prickly when it came to his food. The admittedly diminutive superpower went flying into the fray with his infamous wok, screaming obscenities that were fortunately in Chinese and therefore incomprehensible to Canada. China then promptly made short work of the whole mess with the help of extreme violence and consecutive blows to multiple unfortunate noggins.
"I am sick of your bickering and clumsiness, aru!" China yelled at the subdued nations. "Sheesh, you Westerners can't even walk without tripping over each other's feet! And punching each other in the face! How did your civilizations even survive past the first century, aru?! Wouldn't your whole populations have 'accidentally' walked off a waterfall?!"
Canada shuddered. The Chinese accent, which had been previously lurking behind the curtains without ever showing a trace of its existence, had stormed onstage with a vengeance. The berated nations hung their heads in shame. They knew the signs; the Accent and the Aru, which were slowly growing in strength. They were not good signs.
Russia slunk behind the other cowering nations and pasted a look of puppy-eyed repentance on his face in an effort to escape the oncoming fury. It didn't work.
"Onwards march!" China was shouting, waving his wok threateningly. "No punching! No kicking! No 'accidentally' hitting others people with a steel pipe! And definitely no hexing!" A look of pure acid was thrown at an unsuspecting England, who sputtered in outrage at the accusation.
"Don't pretend to be innocent, Angleterre." France snorted through a nostril of falling rose petals. "And I would like it if you were to take this spell off. It is very irritating."
"Hrunngghh." America agreed in fluent Hippopotamus.
England pretended to start a conversation with his invisible flying Mint Bunny, ignoring the two suffering nations completely.
"China-" France turned to him with a pleading look on his face and a deluge of petals pouring out of his nostril.
"No." China snapped. "Don't talk to me, aru. You'll trip over your feet and 'accidentally' elbow England in the face, aru."
He sent a vicious glare at a honking America. "What are you snickering at, aru? Keep walking!" He waved his wok threateningly in emphasis.
"Yes, mother." England muttered out of the corner of his mouth, which earned him a firm smack to the back of his head.
For once, Canada was glad to be forgotten about.
Japan prowled through the darkened corridors, dark eyes alert for any sign of life. Or death, if it came to that. He quashed the thought immediately. It was silly, thinking that way, he chided himself. Nations didn't just die. Last he checked, Italy was functioning fine, if not a little haphazardly.
The gloom clouded his view. Visibility was low. Japan switched to his other senses smoothly, almost without thinking.
Up the stairs. Down the stairs. Japan added each new step he took to the map in his head, taking care not to lose his position.
He marked and double checked his position in front of a door he had not previously explored. Japan closed his eyes and listened for any sign of movement that could suggest the presence of his missing ally. Or if it came to it, the creature.
The absence of noise suggested the absence of either.
Japan tugged open the door and flipped the light switch as soon as he found it. It was a small room, covered in layers of dust. A rickety bookshelf clung stubbornly to existance against a wall. There was a large lever in a corner.
Out of curiosity, Japan crossed over to the lever. There was a sign next to it, the words erased by an accumulation of dust. He wiped it away with a finger, careful not to let the falling dust stain his white uniform.
Up is Heaven,
Middle is Earth,
Down is Hell.
Japan wondered briefly whether it was a puzzle left deliberately by the owner of the mansion. And if so, why. Perhaps it was some kind of party trick, or held some sort of special meaning.
He probably wasn't going to Heaven. None of them were - well, except maybe Sealand. And the lever was resting on 'Earth' anyway. So...
Experimentally, Japan tugged the lever downwards.
The lever made a heavy thunk as it moved. A groan came from behind him. Japan spun around, sword already drawn, just in time to witness the bookshelf grating into place.
Where the shelf had sat previously, a ragged hole in the floorboards yawned into the darkness. There had once been a trapdoor there, but over the years it had wore at it mercilessly until the hinges had finally given way to the passage of time and fell, taking with it parts of the already weakened wood.
Japan peered down into the hole, sword at hand. The stuttering light from the ancient light bulbs managed to illuminate the side of a pale shape in the room below. Otherwise, everything was enshrouded in murky darkness.
There was no sign of either Italy or the creature below. Japan turned back to the lever with a frown. With a swift yank, he forced it upwards.
The lever broke when it reached 'Earth'. Something clattered onto the floorboards.
Japan spotted a silver glint in the dust. He picked up the key. It was something, at least. Though he wondered what would have happened if he had turned the lever to 'Heaven'. There was nothing to do about it now, of course. The lever had broken beyond use.
Approaching the gap in the floor, he knelt down and peered into the room below. There was nothing there save the pale, lifeless shape he had seen before, that lay just beyond the edge of his vision. Japan gripped tightly onto the jagged edges of the floorboards and leaned over to try and see further into the room.
The wood beneath him gave a faint creeak, and that was all the warning he got before the ground splintered beneath him and plunged him into the gloom.
Japan's instincts landed him on his feet with barely a sound, despite the fact his eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the dark. He dragged his hand along the wall, patting desperately for the light switch. When he finally found it, he turned the lights on and released a breath he didn't know he was holding.
The humming and crackling of ancient light bulbs stirred from their slumber were music to his ears. Japan used his newly regained sight to scan the room quickly for monsters. There were none.
The piano lay beneath its white protective cover, dominating the center of the room. Japan approached it cautiously and slowly removed the white cloth, careful not to raise the dust that had settled on it.
The piano beneath it was bone-white, and shining like it had just been wiped. Japan ran a finger along the gleaming surface and held it up to his face. There was not a speck of dust on the pristine white. He found it a little strange, but supposed the cover had protected it from the worst of the accumulation.
The piano beckoned, almost hypnotically. His fingers itched to dance across the keys. He needed the music, and the soothing, rhythmic action needed to produce the music. It would bring some sense of normality back, and calm his leaping nerves. Well, it wouldn't do any harm if he put the muffling pedal down, would it? Italy... it wasn't like you could simply kill a nation, even if he did get caught...
No.
Japan shook his head. The thought of Italy suffering a serious injury came like a stab in the throat. Even if he couldn't die, Japan would not be able to live with himself if he allowed his ally to suffer needlessly. He almost felt ashamed for even thinking of dallying.
Shutting the lid on the keys carefully, Japan walked out of the room without a backward glance.
Broad swathes of sunlight had made it to the hallway through generously proportioned windows. Japan blinked at the sudden, fierce onset of light. Outside, the sun was dropping to the horizon lethargically. He had better hurry.
He went up the hall and turned right at the nearest door, easing it open and entering without noise. It was a large library, significantly bigger than the private one he had encountered the creature in. Rows and rows of wooden shelves stacked neatly along the room, books taking up all available space.
Japan wandered from shelf to shelf, glancing through the aisles to ascertain they were empty.
A shuffling sound came from the back of the room. Japan froze. Then it came again, from the same place.
Japan drew his sword quietly, muffling the sound with his uniform. He crept around the shelves, ready to swing at any opportunity.
He rounded a corner and came at last to where the sound came from.
It was no monster.
Italy sat against a shelf, large brown eyes trained on a book in his lap. His blue uniform stained grey with dust. Occasionally, his foot twitched on the carpeted floor, raising a small puff of dust and causing the shuffling sound Japan had heard. He was biting his lower lip, his eyes darting. He looked tense, like he was going to jump up and run at any second.
Japan broke the silence with a disbelieving "Itaria?"
Italy jolted violently, the book flying out of his lap and skittering across the dusty carpet. He jumped to his feet with a panicked look, before he caught sight of Japan and broke into a huge grin.
"Giappone!" Italy chirped happily, jumping at Japan and throwing his arms around him. Japan let Italy pull him into a enthusiastic hug. Normally, he would have discouraged such an action, but Italy was here. He was real, he was solid, and he was uninjured. Japan had found his ally before the monster did. He allowed himself to feel glad.
Italy pulled away and looked Japan over with a worried expression. "Are you okay? Uninjured?" When Japan nodded he broke into a relieved smile.
"You?" Japan inquired.
Italy waved dismissively. "Veh, I'm fine. The creature didn't even scratch my bootlaces. I was fast. Oh-" He blinked, brown eyes flashing to Japan. "There was this huge, grey thing that came right after you left, and-"
Japan held up a hand to stop him. "Prussia told me."
Italy looked surprised. "You found Prussia?"
Japan nodded. "And Germany too. They are waiting for you."
Italy beamed, lighting his face up like the sun had just came out of the clouds. "Va bene! We shouldn't keep them waiting, then. Germany will make me run laps if I am late." He shuddered at the thought.
And then there was that one thing about Italy. He could worry about laps in a place like... this. That sort of thinking took a very special mindset indeed. The kind of mindset that didn't survive the psychological battering in the trenches, but whose cheerful vivacity made survival possible for others.
Before they burnt into an empty shell, that was. And they always did.
Japan led Italy back to the safe room where the Germanics resided, warning him in advance not to sing, or whistle, or tap dance, or whatever it was he kept doing instead of walking. To his surprise, Italy had agreed seriously, without a single word of protest.
They really did need to get out of here before anything stranger happened.
Italy trailed behind Japan, keeping a certain distance from him at all times. Japan wondered idly about that. Italy usually had no regard for personal space whatsoever, and seemed to delight in physical contact. The brunet was startlingly silent, walking with his head lowered so his hair fell across his eyes and obscured most of his face from Japan's view. His shoulders were tensed, Japan noticed. Like he was expecting someone to hit him.
Japan broke the crusting silence. "We have arrived."
Italy looked up and blinked, shaking his head a little to clear his hair from his eyes. "Oh!" He said, surprised. "I didn't expect it to be so quick." He stepped forward, past Japan, and placed a hand on the doorknob. "Germany and Prussia are in here?" He asked. "It seems awfully quiet. They're usually so loud when they're together-"
Italy broke off, a stricken look on his face. "Ay mio dio." He breathed. He shook his head and backed away from the doorknob. "No. No. No."
Japan watched with concern. "What's the matter, Itaria-kun?"
Italy didn't look at him. Still muttering under his breath, he brushed past him and opened the door.
They were immediately met by the sight of the grey creature, filling up the bulk of the room. And trapped behind it, the Germanics.
Prussia held his claymore before him, its deadly tip pointed at the creature. Germany had his whip in one hand, and a small service pistol in another. Both parties were absolutely rock-still. There was an invisible battle going on between them. The battle of wills. Each waiting for the other to make the first move, to make a mistake and expose themself to the opponent.
Germany's cold blue gaze slid to Japan and Italy. "Go." He hissed through clenched teeth. Prussia twitched his blade a little to mirror the monster's sudden shift towards the doorway.
Japan dropped a hand casually to his sword, while Italy stood frozen to the spot. "My, my." He said calmly. "I must be losing my hearing in my old age... I don't seem to be able to hear you at all." He took a step forward, his cool, dark eyes glancing back toward Italy. "Stay there, Italy."
Italy snapped out of his trance. He looked at the creature with a face devoid of all expression, and then to Germany who was glaring at him and mouthing 'go'. "Oh," Italy stepped forward so he was shoulder to shoulder with Japan. "I don't know, Japan. I think I just got deaf too."
Japan was shocked. But he didn't allow it to show on his face. This place was doing weird things to all of them, there was no doubt about it.
"Italy, you-" Germany ground out.
The monster's attention shifted temporarily to the Germanic nation.
Now.
Japan darted forward, his sword already swinging. The monster spun to meet his attack, taking its attention off the Germanic brothers for a split second.
Then, multiple things happened at once.
Japan changed direction mid-swing, the deadly blade of his katana sweeping low toward the monster's legs. Prussia charged in head on with a war cry, cleaving for the monster's broad skull. Germany's pistol emitted a loud, cracking noise as it fired once, twice at the creature.
The bullets ricocheted off the monster's thick grey skull, doing little or no damage. But it was enough to distract the monster a little. Japan's blade connected with its knees, toppling the enormous creature to the ground. Its limbs flailed wildly as it shrieked in rage and pain.
A flailing fist slammed into a wall, forcing Prussia to leap back to avoid being splattered all over the wallpaper. Germany uncoiled his whip and struck for the wound Japan had created on its knee, perhaps hoping to target a weak point. The creature rolled about on the floor, all five hundred pounds of sturdy grey flesh flailing wildly at any perceived threat. Germany's whip hissed around the creature's ankles and firmly anchored itself there. The monster's next movement jerked the whip out of Germany's hands, forcing him to beat a hasty retreat.
Japan darted in, blade raised, but the erratic thrashing of the monster prevented him from getting close enough to land a blow. Prussia paced around it on the other side, evidently frustrated.
A sound whistled through the air, crackling and hissing. Japan spun around to find Italy standing with a grim expression on his face, and a thick red book open in his hands.
The monster seemed to become sluggish at the sound. Or maybe it was just the burst of energy that shot through Japan's veins at light speed, burning through all traces of fatigue he may have felt previously.
Prussia yelled in glee. He charged at the monster, heedless of the thrashing limbs and somehow managing to avoid getting hit. Japan followed his example, albeit with a little more caution. He used the wall as a springboard and pushed off, sailing towards the monster with three feet of deadly steel gleaming in his hands.
The monster got back to its feet, only to be brought crashing down again when Germany gave his whip a vicious yank.
Japan's katana sheared through the creature's throat as Prussia cleaved its skull in two.
The creature shuddered, and then stilled. Slowly, it dissipated into the air.
The nations spent a moment catching their breaths.
Germany scrutinised Italy thoughtfully. "What was that just now? The ...word you shouted."
Italy fidgeted with the red leather cover of his book. "It's a spell." He murmured. "I found this book in the library before Japan found me." He lapsed into silence, brown eyes staring at the wall absently.
"Awesome find." Prussia grinned. "It was like a shot of pure sugar. Got any more of those?"
Italy nodded, but said nothing.
Japan watched his ally carefully. It wasn't like Italy to be so quiet. Normally, the exuberant brunet would already have been five minutes into a tangent that inevitably led to the subject of pasta.
As if to relieve Japan's concerns, Italy started talking animatedly to the Germanic, hands waving all over the place. "Veh, Germany, I'm really tired right now."
"What did you go and do that for?"
The question seemed to take Italy by surprise. "What?"
"You didn't run." Germany glared at him. Italy squeaked and tried to shrink back on himself. "All those times I ask you to fight, you run away. And when I actually tell you to run, you stay instead. Are you stubborn on purpose or just stupid?"
"I... Germany, I just, I, um-" Italy swallowed.
"What?"
"I -reallydidntwantyoutodie."
Prussia whistled quietly, but was wise enough to prevent himself from making any further interruptions.
"Was?"
Italy turned his face away and scuffed his feet. "I didn't want you to die, okay? Any of you."
Germany's expression softened. "We're nations, Italy. We don't die so easily."
"You don't understand." Italy said softly. "It's this place. This- it, the house-" He brought a sleeve up to his face and wiped furiously.
Alarmed, Germany reached for Italy's wrist and gently turned him around to face him. "Italy? Are you crying?"
His answer came in the form of a loud sniffle.
Awkwardly, Germany wrapped his arms around Italy's shaking form and held him close. "We will be out of here in no time, Italy. Don't worry so much about it."
Italy nodded into Germany's chest.
"You said you were tired, ja? We will find a place to rest. We can look for a way out tomorrow."
Germany shot a cold stare at his elder brother, who was delighting himself by putting his fingers together and making obnoxious smooching noises.
Japan couldn't help but smile in a way that was a little bitter, but tinged with the memory of sweetness. It reminded him of his own estranged family.
