Okay, guys, here's another one ^^ Longer than the last, and quicker, so I hope it makes up for all the waits. I wanted to most it a bit later, but my friend said to post it now. Hope you like it!
"Veee, there you are Japan!" Italy smiled, rushing towards Japan, and making as if to drag him.
"Italy-kun, the food!" Japan warned in time, diverting the overly eager Italian.
"Oh..." Italy hummed, expression falling before a smile of inspiration once again lit his face. "I'll help you carry those!" He proclaimed, before taking one of the platters.
"Italy-kun, I don't…" Japan had only known the chibi for a few days, but already he was aware of how clumsy the other could be. But not being one to bring up such a potentially offensive topic, Japan could only cringe and follow as the Italian made his way to the newly decorated table, wincing every time the platter tilted.
Miraculously, Italy was able to set the tray down without incident.
Ironically, Japan was the one to trip, over his own foot no less. Or so it had seemed.
"Ahh!" Bashful yelped as the Asian hit into him, toppling over backwards. The other fell over likewise, the contents of the trays splattering over the two of them. "I'm so sorry!"
"I apologize!" Japan hastened at the same time, sitting up, and trying to help the other up, only to receive similar treatment. "It's my fault."
"No, it's mine I…" Bashful insisted, taking a napkin from the nearby table and beginning to mop the mess off the other's clothing.
"I insist, I…" Japan tried to do the same, but instead ended up wiping the floor, shortly join by the chibi.
"No, no, it's really my…" Bashful crouched down scooping up some of the ruined food.
"It's both of your faults!" Romano cut in irritably, having returned from tree hunting with Spain.
"Oh dear…" Bashful straightened, looking over Japan's food splattered clothes. "Come with me, I-I have some clothes you can borrow."
Japan looked after the chibi's diminutive form, nonplussed, but followed him anyway. It was the polite thing to do, after all, and Japan was anything but impolite.
When they finally reached the bedroom, Bashful went over to the closet, pulling open the doors to beginning shifting through items. A stretch of silence passed, before the chibi pulled out a neatly folded stack of clothes. "These should do," he began to unfold the garments.
"Uh…Bashful-san, I don't think…" Japan began to protest, trying to find a courteous way to refuse. But then his eyes fell revealed clothing. It was normal size, human size. How peculiar.
"They might actually be a bit big on you," Bashful mumbled to himself, more than their guest. "I was a little taller than you back when…back when…" He trailed off, expression glum.
"Back when what?" Japan prompted, before catching himself. He flushed. "Ah…pardon me, Bashful-san…if it's not too forward of me, I—"
"It's fine," the chibi smiled, though the smile on his face was faltering. A moment passed before he continued. "Alfred and I…used to be human. A few years ago, this crazy girl—Belareth? I don't quite remember—turned me into a chibi, thinking I was my brother. Then, realizing her mistake, she went after my brother once again, and changed him too. We've been stuck like this ever since."
"Belarus," Japan realized with a start, pallor seeping into his skin as he thought of his deranged almost step sister.
"Yes! That's it," Bashful smiled. "I hate not being able to remember other people's names, because no one ever remembers mine so I know how it feels and…are you feeling all right?"
"Y-yes," Japan assured, letting a smile plaster itself over his features.
"Okay," Bashful hedged, not wanting to intrude, but knowing something was amiss. "I'll let you get changed." He left the room, reluctantly going back into the chaos he knew would be awaiting him.
Japan quickly slipped out of his dress (he'd become quite used to the unwieldy garments throughout his life) before slipping his legs into the pants. Bashful had been right, they were a little long, but no more than a few inches—nothing that would inhibit his movement. Next came the shirt, a little baggy, but comfortable and clean. Japan couldn't remember the last time he'd worn such plain, masculine clothes.
There was a mirror on the door of the closet, dirty as everything had been in this house. Japan looked over himself, the simple, slightly large clothes so different from the elaborate dresses he usually wore. His hair was a mess, and he was in need of a good long bath. Small scrapes marred the pale skin of his bare feet, having removed the torn stockings.
Running his hands as best he could through his hair, to make it presentable, and wiping the obvious smudges of dirt from his skin, the boy made his way back downstairs to the party. Life was not so bad here, amidst the chibis. They might be perverted, and conceited, and grumpy…but they were just so cute!
"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the cutest of them all?" Belarus recited the all so familiar rhyme.
"I told you, you can just ask me normally!" China returned, obviously miffed. But at a threatening glance from the girl, he quickly conceded. "Shinatty still has you both beat, aru…but away within the forest, Snow White remains the cuter between you."
"...!" Belarus clenched her fists, fuming through gritted teeth, "What do you mean, Snow White? I had him disposed of. Lithuania brought me back his heart to prove so!"
"Relax!" China chided, frowning. "Remember what I said about the PMS-ing, aru? Not cute."
"I don't care!" the girl shouted, exasperated. "Just tell me what's going on. Surely, you must be misled?"
"I am not," the mirror returned, matter-of-factly, wrinkling his nose. "That heart you were given was a pig's heart. It stinks, aru! Can't you tell the difference?"
"What…?" Belarus glowered, moving over to the box, and looking inside. The severed organ lay desolately in the corner, a pool of coagulated blood surrounding it. She leaned in, taking a whiff, before wrinkling her own nose. "That's just because it's rotting!" She justified, slamming the lid shut. "Lithuania wouldn't lie to me."
"Are you sure, aru?" China mused disinterestedly.
"Of course I'm sure, I…" and she was out of the room, heeled shoes clacking loudly against the stone as she stormed down the halls. "Lithuaniaaaaaaaa!!!"
"Oh dear…" China's heart fell, as he realized what was about to happen to the poor servant. Belarus had no sympathy on matters related even remotely to her brother.
"Lithuaniaaaaaa!" Russia recognized the screeching voice immediately, dodging into a hidden crevice away from his sister.
It was then he realized something strange. She wasn't screaming his name, but Lithuania's. The poor guy…he wondered what he'd done to deserve this. Belarus sounded really upset…
In a sudden moment of courage—and stupidity—Russia ran to intercept his sister in her mad rampage.
"Brother?" she questioned, confusion dimming her anger momentarily when his hand latched onto her shoulder.
"What did Lithuania do?" the purple-eyed one questioned, both curious and afraid of the answer. Or just afraid of Belarus in general…it was hard to distinguish.
"He didn't ki—" she faltered, having caught herself, but not sure of how to continue. Her brother, while not particularly attached to Snow White, would not be pleased with her assassination order. Not at all. Furiously, she worked for an alternative scenario…
"He didn't kill Snow White, daze~!" a cheerful voice cut in, causing the princess to blanch. Korea was going to be so dead…
"...what?" Russia replied intelligently, perplexed. "Why would Lithuania do that? And why would sister…?"
"She ordered him to!" Korea explained, before yelping as the girl leapt at him, clawing at his face. "Aaaaaahhh! Stop it! I was just answering his question!"
"Sister, is that true..?" Russia inquired, tone a mixture of dismay and hurt.
There was only one thing that could stop Belarus on a killing rampage, and that was her brother. She paused, nails poised to take the unfortunate Asian's eye out. "Brother, I…"
"He's my finance," Russia stated, tone caught between it's usually fear in such company and something else, form tensing. "I might not have loved him, but I cared about him and you tried to have him killed?"
"Brother, he wanted to take you away from me, he…" Belarus tried to reason, but she caught sight of the look in Russia's eyes.
"I thought I told you not to touch my things!" Russia cried, tears leaking out of his eyes. "You promised you wouldn't hurt him…just like you promised you wouldn't do anything to America-kun…"
"Brother, I—" Belarus tried to explain, but Russia would have none of it.
"I-I hate you!" he shouted, before tearing off down the hallway.
"Brother!" the girl shouted, chasing after her sibling. All thoughts of Lithuania and how she was going to punish him were gone form her mind, replaced with the need to get Russia's forgiveness, a task she knew would be none too easy.
Russia locked his door and sat on the edge of his bed. Crying was so out of character for him. He usually covered his pain with a smile, a smile that seemed to scare most people, though he didn't know why. But when it came to America….
He got up and slowly walked over to his closet, pulling out a thick material from the back. It was a little worn, but well cared for and looked like it had been dusted regularly, despite being hidden for so long.
"Alfred," he whispered softly hugging the jacket close to him, crying silently into the brown material. It was of some comfort that it still held Alfred's scent: a mixture of fried food and something else, a warm scent that reminded Russia of the sunflowers he loved so much. He looked out the window and gave a small smile. America was incredibly hard to get rid of, the only reason Russia even went out with him on their first date.
He knew that he was still out there, and hoped that, maybe someday, he would come back, despite all Belarus had put him through, and would no doubt put him through again. When he disappeared those years ago, Russia had realized how much the blond had meant to him, how much he missed his bright smile and passionate eyes. Russia knew he would never love anyone more than he loved Alfred, and so he would wait here, until the self-proclaimed hero decided to return.
And Snow White. Russia had been opposed to the idea of marriage all along, but he would never have wished death on the Asian. He had been kind and comforting when America had vanished one day, no doubt of Belarus's doing. Japan was not America, and Russia had never to this day felt a hint of anything romantic towards his fiancé. But he had been a good friend, despite his obvious fear of the Russian. And for that, Russia was grateful, and hoped that wherever the prince had ended up, he was happy. Just as he hoped America was.
ArisaLyeanna: Well, all stories have to be in-progress before than can be complete, unless they're one shots. Perhaps you're just catching them at a bad time? ^^' Thank you very much for the review! Glad you're enjoying it.