***China and Japan***

They'd been fighting for what seemed like hours, each exhausted, each battle torn, each unwilling to surrender.

"You ever going to realize you've been beaten, brother?"

China snarls at Japans words, his hair flying free around his face as he leaps back to avoid a strike.

"You are no brother of mine." He retorts.

Japan smirks, "Blood cannot be changed."

"The vessel it is contained in can be destroyed."

"But the soul still exists," A hit lacerates Chinas arm as Japan speaks, "and the mark still remains."

China thinks of his scar, Japan flipping away from a slice that severs the sleeve of his shirt.

"Sometimes the mark is necessary to remind one that the other cannot be trusted."

Japan lapses into silence. They fight for another long period, filled only with the grunts exertion and the clash of steel on steel. China is faltering and Japan is already weak. This fight won't last much longer and they both know that. Then the moment comes. It could have been an accident, how suddenly it happened.

Japan was instantly above china as he fell. Before he even hit the ground, his katana was plunging through the elder's chest.

With a small sigh, Japan attempted to rise… and found he could not. His whole body was weak; he could no longer control his own limbs.

Looking down he saw why. As he had impaled China, so China had done to him.

Tears welled in his eyes… he had done all that… killed his best friends… for NOTHING?

China wears a bloody grin of satisfaction.

"I-I had to… survive," Japan whispers weakly, "Don't you understand that, brother?"

"No. but you can explain it…. In hell."

***Shadow Box***

Maybe the comic relief last time had been a bit much… oh, well. Two more dead so soon. One message then, this time.

•Brothers bound,

Of not belief or faith perhaps,

But blood all the same,

Of relationships wrought in betrayal,

Not trust or love,

Is it any surprise?

This end so soon to

Both of no fault, but each other's•

***BTT and Romano***

Prussia paused in the middle of his joke, smile faltering, face going whiter than normal. He dropped the branch he had been brandishing and sank into a sitting position, looking deeply in thought.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Spain asks gently, crouching beside his friend. France didn't join them, he was reading the sky.

"It's… Hungary and Austria," he read the next message, a little confused, "and… uh, Poland."

"Oh, mi amigo, I'm so sorry."

Prussia rubs furiously at his eyes, then smiles, but it's obviously forced. "It's okay. I'm too awesome to cry." France and Spain hug the tearful Prussian from either side. Not fighting the hug, even though there's some definite groping on Frances part, he says "I'm fine guys! France, quit grabbing my ass."

The Frenchman obliges, "Just trying to make you feel better by spreading the love."

Prussia pushes them off and stands up. "I just wish I knew who killed them, I mean, Hungary's a pretty good fighter, ya know?"

"Yeah," France sighs, mentally going over the contestants left, "I wonder who…"

***Italy and Germany***

Germany had returned earlier than he had planned because he was worried. There had been quite a few deaths lately and, well, Italy was not the best at dealing with things of such nature.

It did nothing to help his concern when, as he drew nearer to their base, he heard a muted muttering. He slowed and attempted to listen, but it was cut off abruptly by a song sung in clear, flowing, Italian.

That must be him then… he sounds unharmed, yet still Germany's instincts were on high alert. But he ignored the warnings is emotions were giving him and ducked inside.

"Hello," he called, not glancing around, just setting what he had managed to gather on the floor beside him.

"Oh," sang the sweet Italian voice, "he's back. He's early. Surprise, surprise! He's back at all…"

Germany stood slowly, confused. It sounded like Italy, his voice not betraying any hint of madness, but his words…

"Is this some sort of game?"

"Game?" Italy giggles, "This is all a game isn't it? Life's a game."

Germany sees the normally bubbly nation sitting with his back to him. Italy is rocking slightly, cradling his white flag.

"Death… is a game."

"Feliciano-" Germany starts, moving toward him as one would a caged animal.

"No, no, no," Italy cuts him off, shaking his head, "Don't speak. Just listen. Alone I could see… I was afraid, but I could see. Clearly. And I understand… are you afraid Ludwig? Scared?"

Germany hesitates, then reaches a hand to rest on Italy's shoulder, "Why are you asking? Are you okay? Take a moment to think."

The pasta obsessed nation spins suddenly, facing the taller on his feet. "You think I'm mad don't you? DON'T YOU?"

Germany steps back, eyeing the sharp rock clutched in one of Italy's hands. Before he can speak Italy laughs softly, as if Germany had spoken.

"Of course you do. Of course… but this, THIS, is not madness. It is REALIZATION! I am no longer afraid Ludwig. Don't you want that for me? I can fight. I will."

"Just calm down." Germany orders. "Put down the rock."

"No one. NO ONE! Will protect me here. Not you, not him, not anyone. This is all… a game… and there can only be-"

Germany lunges, knocking what he thought to be the auburn haired nation's only weapon away.

"-one-"

He fails to notice the sharpened point of the base of the white flag.

"winner."

And he looks into the eyes of his murderer, his best friend, and indeed there is no madness there. His face is blank, emotionless. Perhaps even a trace of happiness. So much like the Italy he had always known…

"It is better this way," Italy coos gently before Germany's spirit can fully leave its vessel. "I killed you because I love you, and now no one can take you from me. This is an act… of compassion."

Humming tunelessly, Italy pulls away his flag, closes Germany's eyes, and lays him down to rest. He only spares a single glance back before leaving.

***Shadow Box***

That was beautiful. Truly. What a way to kill!

•Through death their friendship,

In a way,

It still lives on by one alive.

Though is this better,

Living brother unlike friend,

That your dearest younger sibling,

Has been granted peace by death?•

Really, Prussia should get the message. How many brothers were left? Better make sure.

•Goodbye, Germany…•

***BTT and Romano***

Prussia sank to his knees. This cannot be happening! Tears were streaming down his face before he even finished the message. Not Germany! Not my baby brother… I would've given my life for him to win this! He can't be dead!

Eyes redder than normal, the Prussian man stood and looked at his friends, a look of utter despair on his face. Nobody said anything. Not even Romano had a snide comment.

"Is there anything we can do?" Spain asked softly.

Prussia shook his head slowly. "No," he said, voice choked with sobs. "I just need to be alone for a while."

"Don't do anything you'll regret." France warned the albinos back as he stumbled away.