Lovino was antsy, to say the least. He never really liked to sit still when he was stressed out, and a five-hour train ride definitely did not help to settle his nerves. He knew that nothing would really happen until the next day when they arrived in Seborga, which should have been reassuring, but it only added apprehension to the matter at hand.

The matter at hand being the capture of Ivan Braginski. Lovino had seen entire groups of men killed in less threatening situations. If he didn't know better, he would have said that his Grandpa sent them all out here to die. His eyebrows furrowed in thought. This was really a matter that should have the head of the family working on it himself. Although Roma had ten years on most of the association's members, he was easily the most skilled, collected, and efficient of them all. If Braginski was truly as formidable an opponent as he was made out to be, Lovino and his company were going to need all the help they could get.

Apparently his inner feelings of discontent were showing on his exterior, because when he finally snapped out of his thoughts, he noticed a very concerned looking face directly in front of in his. "Lovino?" Antonio repeated, waving a hand in front of his face.

"W-What?" Lovino asked, shaking his head a bit to clear his head. "What the hell are you doing? Get out of my face."

At this, Antonio leant back and chuckled. "Sorry, you spaced out for a while. You looked troubled."

"I'm fine, leave me alone."

"I don't really think that's possible," Antonio remarked, standing up to his full height in the small train car. "This isn't exactly the most spacious arrangement."

As much as Lovino hated to admit it, he had a point. The train car was pretty small. Thankfully, his company had it all to themselves, but it was still pretty packed, what with five of them being crammed into such a small space. "Would you rather sit out with a bunch of strangers?" Lovino snapped.

The Spaniard smiled at him. "Relax, Lovino. I wasn't complaining; I was merely stating that there isn't much room to give you space in here."

"Whatever." Lovino crossed his arms as Antonio resumed his seat across from him. The other man picked up a newspaper and began to absentmindedly flip through the pages while Lovino studied him for a moment. The man seemed so carefree and kind; not one who should be the leader of an entire country's mafia, although Lovino supposed the same could be said about his Grandpa. He knew not to judge a book by its cover. He was quiet for a few more moments until he couldn't stand it anymore. "Hey, uh, Carriedo."

Antonio looked up at him from behind his newspaper and smiled. "Sí?"

"You seem pretty young to be the head of a mafia. If you don't mind, ah, why are you the leader?"

Lovino saw a mixture of emotions flash across Antonio's face for a split second before he answered: "My older brother used to be the leader, although he mainly stayed in Portugal, which is partially why Spain's underground community hasn't been very important for a while. That, and he actively didn't want anything to do with it." The Spaniard frowned. "He was shot and killed about three years ago in an assassination gone wrong. I suppose it was for the best."

The Italian frowned. When it was put like that, it sounded like he wanted his brother to die.

His train of thought was cut off by Antonio's abrupt laughter. "No, I didn't kill him, if that is what you're thinking. Stepping up was the furthest thing I wanted at the time. Would you like to take over for your Grandpa at twenty-two?"

Lovino shook his head. That was the age he was now and he was nowhere near ready to accept any more responsibility than that which was already given to him.

Antonio shrugged. "I've been able to do a lot since then." His green eyes twinkled. "And I'm sure adding Ivan Braginski to my list of achievements won't hurt, either."

His eyes narrowed. Lovino remembered what his Grandpa had said; working with Antonio would be a great idea and advantage up until the point of actually claiming Braginski. He was supposed to be nice and friendly and happy to help Spain, but when it came to their prize, Lovino was to take Braginski in as his own. "Mm," he hummed.

The younger man glanced out the window. It was dark, and the moon reflected off the surrounding fields. The scenery caught his artistic eye and he found himself yet again wishing to be anyone else. He still couldn't believe that he was put up to this task; Lovino wasn't overly skilled or experienced. The thought of a gunfight terrified him and his anxiety had been steadily eating at him more with each second that passed. He didn't really know anyone else in the car with him as people and he wouldn't know any of the people they meet in Seborga at all, besides his cousin. Unfamiliar people, unfamiliar places, and a psychotic Russian to capture. All good for releasing stress.

He was on the precipice of a mental breakdown when Antonio spoke up. "Why is your brother not accompanying us?"

Lovino scoffed. Everyone always asked about Feliciano. Feliciano was the nicer, friendlier, more skilled, and generally better-liked sibling, but that didn't stop Lovino from being bitter every time someone asked about him. Of course he loved his little brother, but sometimes he felt like people didn't see Lovino himself at all. "What does it matter?" he snapped, a hint of his underlying anger laced into his voice.

The Spaniard raised an eyebrow. "I was only making conversation," he responded calmly.

"I don't give a fuck about what you were trying to do. Don't talk about Feli."

He looked a bit taken aback. Lovino felt a little bad, but not enough to apologize. "Well then, I heard we were meeting a cousin of yours, yes?"

Lovino sighed loudly. "What is your obsession with my family memebers?"

"I'm trying to get a feel for who you are, that is all." Antonio smiled easily at him. The man smiled too much.

"Cut it out. You don't need to know anything about me personally."

He pouted rather childishly. "I know that, Lovino. I'm just curious."

"There's a whole saying about curiosity. The one where the cat dies? That'll be you if you keep this inquisition up."

"But the satisfaction brought it back." Antonio finished the saying with a charming smile.

Lovino glared. "How much longer until our stop?"

Antonio checked his watch. "Almost four hours."

The Italian groaned and held his head in his hands. "Great, four more hours of hell."