Blinding white covered America's vision. He blinked a few times, but he couldn't seem to wipe the haze out of his eyes. He knew he was on the ground, his neck was being caressed by dozens slightly itchy fingers.
His vision slowly drifted into focus in blue spots. He sniffed in a bit of air – or as much as he could – before coughing violently. Oh yeah the string… He recalled with mild annoyance. What scent he did manage to catch was really sweet, and floral. It made his whole body warm to breathe it in. No wait, he was warm? He blinked just a few more times and was blasted by yellows and greens. He sat up feeling his neck. The string there felt much tighter than before. He inhaled lightly. That's all he could muster under this new pressure.
Slowly gazing around him, America gathered in this peculiar, albeit pleasant, scenery. On both sides of the man there were rows upon rows of sunflowers, some at least twice his height in size. They resembled tall emerald sentry with bright yellow helmets neatly standing at ready, occasionally giving way and bending to a rogue warm zephyr. The flora was so dense there was no way he could see through them at all. They cut a clear path in front of him paved in soft, yet neatly trimmed, grass. Is this a…?
"It's a maze!" A quiet voice finished with wonder.
America hopped out of his skin causing the other person with him to jump as well.
"Canada?!" America gasped irritating his throat, "Dude! Warn me before you sneak up on me like that!"
"America, I've been awake for about thirty minutes waiting for you to wake up," A heavy sigh laced his words, "I was sitting right here. You didn't even notice me?"
"Well, maybe if you were a little louder." America suggested not even looking in his direction, "How do we get out of here?"
"I don't know…" Canada shook his head, "I looked at the end of this path here. It forks and it's completely the same in both directions."
"What was that?" America was already half way towards the end of the path.
"America, don't ask if you aren't going to listen."
"Speak up, Canada!" America coughed, shouting causing his string to feel tighter on his neck.
"See?" Canada caught up to him, "Now, can you slow down?"
"Fine, whatever!" America conceded, "Wait a minute. Where's China?"
Canada's eyes widened, "Oh, maple leaf! Do you think he's alone?!"
"I hope not." America said. His facial expression melted into an indignant one, "Why do you say that?"
"Say what? 'think he's alone'?"
"No, no, maple or whatever." America questioned, "It sounds stupid."
Canada's cheeks flushed, his brow knitting slightly, "Is that really important right now?"
America walked, his hands in his pockets, "No, just trying to stop you from sounding like a complete nerd."
Rolling his eyes, Canada grumbled, "Says the fat ass that spends his Saturdays alone playing videogames hours on end."
"What was that?" America turned to face him.
Canada squeaked plastering on a nervous smile, "Nothing! L-Let's just go." He tried to adjust his neck-string slightly feeling it squeeze tighter. Not that it helped.
The two chose a random direction and began walking silently cursing each other out under their breath.
o0o0o
Oh, this is very bad Japan knitted his hands in his yukata as he sat in the grassy path set in front of him. His far-off brown eyes fell upon the unconscious China sprawled out in front of him. Japan leaned forward and gently blew air into the ashen face. Nothing. Japan looked around the towering sunflowers as if to check for anyone watching.
He, with as much grace as he would use at a tea ceremony, gently nudged China's arm, "China- san."
Still no response.
If only I had a phoenix down, he mentally cursed himself for not bringing any. He noted the older country's long hair was sticking to his face where blood had dried and his clothing was coated in several loathsome body fluids. Should I leave his clothes like this? He certainly did not want to remove them. How awkward would it be if he woke up in the middle of it? He played the scenario in his head, only for it to result in his body becoming a twinkle in the sky.
"If I were a westerner this wouldn't be a problem for me... would it?" Japan sighed. "I wonder where America is." America had been holding on to China, too.
Or for that matter, where did Germany or Italy or all the others go? Why was it just him and China? The air between the countries had been cordial, but very strange and impersonal. Japan almost found himself hoping the country wouldn't wake up, just to avoid that awkwardness. China groaned.
"W-what…?" China sat up slowly. He hissed and clutched his head, "Aiyaa!"
"China-san!" Japan's hand motioned towards him but refrained from touching him, "You shouldn't move too much! You have a concussion."
"Japan, what are… you doing here…?" China's pained eyes wandered over the younger man.
"Do you remember? We were in Russia's mind?" Japan felt a little ridiculous saying that sentence out loud.
"What…?" China laughed lightheartedly, "You are… joking with me?"
Japan shook his head worry dressing his face, "China-san, you mean you don't remember?"
"Japan, enough joking!" China said sternly, "Where is this place?"
It can't be helped, I guess. I'll explain later… Japan thought standing up, "This is my maze. Let's see if we can get out of here."
"Japan…" China stood up slowly, but found his legs had become jelly, and fell into Japan's back, "Aiyaa…"
Japan's spine stiffened. Is he… making a confession?!
"I can't walk…" China despaired, "…Japan, can you give big brother a piggy back ride?"
Japan gasped. Big brother…? Japan felt the air growing uncomfortable around him, "China-san, are you okay…?"
"Of course I am! It just one of those dreams where you can't move." He reasoned. Japan exhaled oh he thinks it's just a dream! Things don't have to make sense in dreams… Of course this also meant he was still affected by his head injury, but at least it didn't have to be as awkward! Japan crouched allowing for china to climb onto his back. He firmly gripped china's legs. China wrapped his sleeves around the slightly shorter man's neck.
"Urgh… my… back… Hold on tight…" Japan grunted as he wobbled to stand. He no longer had the strength of his country behind him, and China seemed to still have all the weight of his. It didn't help that the string was constraining his breath.
Japan began to hobble forward down the flower-fenced path. This lack of strength… It brings back… regrettable memories… Japan's inner thoughts were cut off by a strange sight.
Standing at the end of the path was another person. It was a thin teen boy with very lightly colored hair. He wore a simple white gown and shorts that fell just before his knees. Turning around, his hair fluttered almost weightless, and it appeared his translucently pale skin was glowing. Is that… a ghost?
"Is your friend dirty?" The boy spoke, his high voice heavy with accent, shattering his ethereal aura.
"Ah! I'm not dirty!" China snapped.
The boy chuckled familiarly, "I am knowing where he can get cleaned… Follow me."
Japan nodded and followed despite China's whispered protests. He had no idea how to get out of this maze otherwise.
o0o0o
Roses. What a strange smell to wake up to. England inhaled a bit before realizing his face was sufficiently buried in something soft and warm. He nuzzled into it warming up his frosted cheeks.
"Oh, England," A nasally laugh rolled through the air stinging the Englishman's eardrums, "If I knew you felt this way about me, I would have prepared better."
England shot straight up on his knees, "What were you doing to my face, bloody cheese-eating git?!"
"I might ask what you were doing to my vital regions…" France rose up on his elbows exasperated, "but that is neither here nor there… I just woke up, too, my little black sheep."
"Just shut the hell up, frog!"
"Maybe if you fed me one of your nast-,"
An unfamiliar noise snapped the squabbling men's attention. Germany sat up and groaned, "Where are we?"
The men took this moment to gaze around them. It was snowy… but now the landscape was heavily forested. The trees surrounded them but that chilly, still air was what sealed the eerie air this place gave off. It was notably darker and much quieter than the tundra-like scenario before.
"We are missing half our group…" England looked at Germany who was currently dusting himself off.
Germany stood tall. "Where is Ital…"
"GERMANY-Y-!"
The distant, shrill cry sounded off from the east before being clouded in a flurry of coughs. Peering a bit further into the trees revealed Italy dangling by his belt from a high tree branch. After helping the poor man down the men managed to gather their heads.
"Are we ever going to get out of here?" Italy whined.
"How are we supposed to find Russia with these stupid landscapes?" England's annoyance almost served as a heat source for him, "It's not fair!"
"I am going to guess this one goes on forever, too." Germany said pacing, looking through the forest for any light. That would signal a way out.
"I am… hungry…" France finally grumbled. His stomach did as well. The countries never really needed food; they simply enjoyed the taste and the experience of eating. However, now that they were human, their empty stomachs were something to worry about. The sounds of sniffling broke their despaired groaning. Their eyes shot to a ruffling bush.
Slowly a boy looking not more than 6 years in age hobbled into the clearing. His rounded cheeks were tinted pink and his nose, slightly big for his face, was even darker in shade. Most notably, his lilac eyes stood out against his dull, yet very warm looking garbs – obviously made of some kind of fresh killed beast. Even his head was wrapped in the furry garments. The boy gasped at the older man standing before him. His eyes paled even further in fear. He then, to the shock of the men, stepped forward.
"Are you Vikings?" He spoke, his small voice curious.
"N-no." England answered simply a bit caught off guard, "Are you… Russia?"
The boy tilted his head, "That name is pretty… but no… I am called Rus."
The men looked at one another. The boy sniffled again, albeit very quietly. It was at that moment that Italy noticed something. Tears. They weren't pouring out; they had simply been falling from the boy's eyes.
"Have you been crying?" Italy asked dumbly.
"What?" Young Rus touched a sleeved and to his small cheek, "Oh, I suppose I have been…"
The sleeve fell revealing pale skin, generously spotted with blue and yellow patches.
"Oh, are you hurt?" England walked up to the boy using a practiced fatherly tone. France followed.
"No!" The boy covered his arm and violently recoiled away from them, "It is just my friend! That is how he plays!"
England's brow pulled painfully into an interesting twist of emotions. He then smiled warmly, "Well, friends aren't supposed to hurt you. Maybe you should find some more friends?"
"My friend hurts me because he is protecting me. I cannot have any more friends, he told me he is all I need." The boy spoke defensively. Germany nodded in understanding, not that it was necessarily a good thing.
The boy continued, "He is making me stronger." He pointed to his chest and laughed tears still rolling their way out of his now-closed eyes, "Here is called Kiev. My friend is guarding it. Pain and tears are just a side-effect."
"There are other ways of expressing your love for someone," France said crouching to the boy's height, "Pain doesn't have to be involved."
"You are funny men. Where are you from?" The boy's expression changed to an amused one.
"Far, far away." England said for lack of a better explanation, "Who are you being protected from anyway, lad?"
"Well, I have been fighting many people since I was here." The young Rus spoke still lighthearted, "General Winter is the only one who will help me."
A strange and harsh wind brushed past them chilling them to the bone.
"By the way, thick eye browed man…" The boy called their attention once again, "What is the meaning of 'lad'?"
"Oh, 'lad' is what you call younger boys where I'm from." England said with a chuckle.
"I do not blame you for that misconception," Rus giggled, "but I do not have a cock!"
The men froze in shock - or maybe out of actually being cold – before apologizing profusely.
"Oh, maybe I did not word that correctly..." Rus's smile fell but after a bit of thought, tried again, "…I have a pussy!"
England quickly tried to silence her, "So, your friend General Winter, where is the chap anyway?"
"He is all around." She spoke, "I think he is here right now… the wind has picked up."
"Here right now?" Germany repeated looking around him, "I don't see anyone."
Rus was petting her furs with her gloved hand nervously, "Would you like to meet him? I think he wants to play."
The wind jostled the tops of the trees knocking snow off the branches in heavy clouds, but that was only that beginning of their visit with the General. The gusts whipped their ways through the trees, the snow making each blade of wind almost visible to the eye. The violent undulations of the thick-trunked trees were unsettling. It was then that Germany came eye to eye with a large, cold face. It glared at him, as if giving him a once over. Germany – as if by instinct – fell into a defensive stance. Wrong choice, it seemed. Large icy hands, like white hot flames, grasped his arms and snatched him from the ground. He hissed at the touch.
"Germany!" The men shouted in panic. Italy rushed to the floating German, who was struggling in the permafrost grasp. He was quickly halted by the sharp blasts emitting from the whirls surrounding them. Italy was growing rather frustrated. Why am I so afraid in these situations!?I want to help someone! I want to help Germany! Unfortunately, all he could muster from this inner monologue was some tears and a muted whimper. Shit! I'm useless!
Two sharp cracks were punctuated by a throaty, rattling scream. That's when they saw their fellow ex-nation go limp, flying - at least - a few stories in the air.
