Three hundred
The number refused to stop flashing in Prussia's mind, taunting him like a persistent schoolyard bully. Rather than run away into the nowhere land like last time, he stomped around the 'city' leaving behind his irritation in a wake of kicked up dirt and harsh footprints. The looks his people gave him were slightly different from the type he would usually earn had he done something like this back when the world was worth living in. He ignored them though and acted as if their expressions were just as unremarkable as the dirt below their feet.
"Bruder why are you sad?" A meek voice from behind him silenced all the others around.
Prussia refused to turn around to look at the 'ghosts' unsettling features. "Sad? I'm not sad, y-you're the one who's sad!"
His chest heaved up in a rapid motion while the rest of his body went as rigid as the vile and frozen heart he believed Russia to have. The cause of Prussia's distressed stature was a hand. It had been a long time since he had felt his brother's hand clasping his own, longer than many would think. "You look sad and angry so that makes me sad-but not angry."
"And why aren't you angry?"
Prussia didn't see the faint upturn of his brother's lips but could feel it in the gentle squeeze of the others grip. "Because you're here with me even if you're not happy about it." Rather than feeling touched, Prussia felt annoyed. Annoyed that his mind wanted to play tricks like this on him, it was cruel in his eyes.
"I wouldn't be angry if you weren't here." He hissed.
Prussia could have sworn he heard a whimper of pain come from behind him but refused to think anything about it. To him it was all just in his imagination. The grip on his hands faded to the point where his brother was barely even touching him. If Prussia continued refusing to clasp his brothers hand back then the others hand would fall away from his own.
With his patience running out, Prussia finally glanced down at the little boy. A strange feeling surged through his body at the sight. Unlike last time he was much closer to the little boy. He always had pale skin but now it looked more like a light color of ash, almost as if he had been sick for a very long time. His sky blue eyes now looked as if storm cloud were beginning to form and the tears pricking at the corner of his eyes were almost like the first few drops of rain.
"It's been a long time since I've seen anyone." Prussia blinked at the boy's simple statement. "I . . . I don't want to go away anymore."
There was a pause. "How long have you been waiting out here?"
The boy shook his head. "It feels like forever to me."
Prussia narrowed his eyes towards him. "Do you remember anything before . . . all this." He motioned to the land around him.
The boy's gaze slowly made its way down to the ground. "I remember being hurt and alone till you found me." Prussia opened his mouth to speak, to yell words he would never say to his brother even when he was older. However the boy beat him to it. "Then I lost you again and then-." The words stopped dead in, his eyes widened as thoughts and memories passed through his mind. "And then something bad happened and everyone disappeared."
"How, how did they disappear?!" The boy took a small step back. Instead of replying he stared; stared with an unknowing look. It took Prussia a while before he once again realized that he believed this boy to be nothing more than a manifestation of a memory, how could this boy know something he didn't.
Prussia grunted before turning his head away. "Someone made them disappear."
. . .
'The meetings at seven, don't be late.'
'Hey where r u, the meetings in ten minutes.'
'Why aren't you here?'
'England's mad that you didn't show up.'
These were only some of the fifty untouched messages left on a forgotten phone. The oldest was from many weeks ago while the earliest was sent a little over a day ago. The owner of the phone didn't even know that messages were being sent to him. How could he when it had fallen between the cushions of a couch in a home he hadn't walked into for a week.
The muffled ringing started once more and like every other time it went voice mail. "America, its England." A faint sigh could be heard before he continued. "I've decided to book a flight to your place and I'll be leaving tomorrow. I've wasted enough time waiting for you to show up to our meetings. You haven't even responded to any of my messages or anyone else's. I'm not even quite sure why I'm bothering to leave you another message, but if you truly don't want to see me or anyone than at least respond back within twenty four hours." The messages ended there without any type of goodbye.
Coincidently a moment later the door to the house became unlocked and the owner, America, stepped in. Noticing the total silence around him he guessed that Tony must of either of been in a different part of the house or not even in it at all. His jacket was sloppily thrown onto the back of an armchair as he walked into one of his living room.
A groan escaped his lips as he flopped down onto the couch. Usually he would have grabbed the remote from the coffee table and watch TV for mind numbing amounts of time. However this time he didn't feel in the mood to do this. Just by looking at America anyone could tell that exhausted was an understatement. For a few minutes everything including him was quiet however it wasn't long before another resident of the house walked into the room.
America tilted his head slightly to see who was there; a small smile formed on his lips. "Oh hey Tony what's up?" The usual energetic booming voice had gone down in volume but the usual cheerfulness was still evident.
Tony replied to him in the same profane language that no one but America could understand, to him it translated to. "You said you would be home at ten o clock . . . six weeks ago."
For a few seconds America only stared at his friend. "Oh yea, sorry about that man." A soft chuckle followed his words.
"What happened, why weren't you there?" He took a few steps forward.
America's smile widened as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Something completely and utterly awesome happened that's what." The volume in his voice began to rise. "I know I haven't exactly been present in a lot of things lately but what I've been doing is going to change the whole freaking world."
It hadn't been the first time that America ranted about changing the world to Tony but for some reason this time was different. "How?"
"It's a surprise, just know that by the end of this everyone's going to finally recognize me as the hero."
. . .
Prussia didn't move after hearing the little boy speak up once again. "What do you mean someone made them disappear?" It almost came out as a whisper.
The boy took another step back which went unnoticed by Prussia who hadn't turned to look at him again. "I . . . I know that everyone disappeared because of someone."
"How do you know it was a person?" Throughout his long life Prussia had heard many apocalyptic prophecies, a good number of them in recent years people had begun to predict the government or nature would cause them. Both were forces that were usually uncontrollable.
"I . . . I just do."
A silence followed before Prussia finally turned around to face the boy. "You know, you're really confusing the hell out of me right now."
"Huh what do you mean?"
"You know this yet you don't know that!?" Part of him felt like telling the boy to fuck off before turning around and ignoring him once again; but despite this he stayed. He sighed before continuing. "What do you know about this person?"
"They did something they shouldn't of and they got in trouble for it."
"They? I thought you said this was only one person."
"I did."
"That's it I'm done with you." With that declaration, Prussia once again started leaving much to the little boy's disappointment.
While all of this was happening neither of them noticed the eyes of the people staring at them. The number of onlookers would have been more, but a portion of the Prussians in the area refused to acknowledge the strange man talking to himself.
One of them was a young women with golden blonde hair braided into a long pony tail. Her features were rather desirable despite the fact that she was covered in rags and dirt. However compared to everything around her she was considerably more fetching.
Her cobalt eyes were too busy looking at the spectacle in front of her to notice the creeping presence behind. "Hello Violet," she jumped at the gruff tone.
Violet Harris, like Prussia, didn't turn to face the man behind her. "Oh, hello Marco." Although she couldn't see him, his face begin to plague her mind.
Marco Costache looked a few years older than Aldo but was considerably taller. She imagined him looking down at her with those long, thin lips curled up in a smile that looked too innocent to be true. Like most of them, he was pale despite being one of few who were banished here. No one knew why he was banished from Rukaria especially since Aldo had made it law not to ask anyone who was banished why-including him.
"What's going on here?" He asked. The image of his scraggly bearded face became more defined in her mind.
"Nothing I know about." Irritation was evident in her tone. "I was only stopping to stare before going back to my father." Two large hands found their way onto her shoulders.
"Your fathers been working you to the bone, why not relax for a few moments?" Violet lightly pushed his hands away from her shoulders before he could tighten his grasp and took a few step away.
"I never feel safe enough to relax." With that said she dashed away from Marco, Prussia, and the other onlookers.
