An hour (of loud arguing) later, the van pulled onto a secluded path, leading deep into a snowy mountain forest. Ivan, Gilbert and Matthew pressed their faces against the windows of the van, their eyes shining as they peered at the mounds of snow. Yao happily chattered with Kiku while Francis and Arthur attempted to strangle each other, and Antonio and Lovino munched companionably on juicy tomatoes. Feliciano bothered Ludwig as Alfred laughed obnoxiously to himself. It was just another normal day amongst the nations.
"Ve, we're almost at the cabin," Italy beamed happily. "Canada, are you going to ski?" The timid nation lit up happily at being recognised.
"Of course! I-"
"Hahahahahahaha! Of course, I'll be snowboarding! Iggy, you're snowboarding too, right?" Arthur gave a curt nod.
"Fine. I guess." Francis let out a derisive snort.
"Don't hurt yourself, grandpere," he teased, poking Arthur's messy blonde head with an infuriating finger. The Englishman scowled at the glowing French nation as he tossed his golden waves to reflect the light. "I will be skiing, of course."
"I bet you're crap at it," Arthur muttered bluntly.
"Better than you, at least!"
"Aiyaah, they never stop fighting… little brother aru, are you snowboarding or skiing?" China called over the ensuing rabble of the enemy nations.
"Yes, Yao Nii-saan, I'll be skiing," Kiku called back. "What about you?"
"Skiing," the Chinese nation replied. He turned to Ivan, who was gazing at the fighting nations with soft… somewhat gleeful… violet eyes. "Ivan aru, are you…" he squeezed his eyes closed, trying to guess, "snowboarding?"
"Gosh, me?" Russia asked, looking startled. "Da, of course! I'm very good at it, actually," he added wistfully, old memories of skidding down endlessly white slopes clouding his gentle eyes. "But I'm just happy to be here with all my friends today, da?"
"I'll be skiing," Germany broke in gruffly. Romano shot him a hostile glare.
"Don't get in my way, potato-bastard," he muttered, taking a bite of the pasta he was sharing with Veneziano. Ludwig raised an eyebrow.
"I wasn't planning on doing so," the blonde replied, expressionless. "Italy, are you skiing as well?" Feli beamed, his mouth full of carbonara.
"Ve!" he said dreamily. "I'm a good skier, Doitsu! Just wait and see!" His brother rolled his eyes.
"Shut up, idiot," Lovino said pointedly. "I'm better than you. And don't eat all the pasta!" he snapped as Italy dug in happily. Spain laughed fondly, patting Romano's head.
"Oh, Lovi," he teased. "Of course you are! Except for that one ski trip where you-" Antonio was muffled hastily by a very embarrassed, bright-red Italian.
"S-shut up, tomato-bastard!" Lovino hissed, burning scarlet. "That was an accident, you know it was!" Spain smiled warmly.
"Whatever you say, tomato." The Spaniard grinned as Romano's face flushed.
"I do not look like a-"
"Of course, the awesome me will be snowboarding!" Gilbert proclaimed proudly, puffing his chest out. His red eyes gleamed. "And I'll beat the rest of your unawesome asses!"
"You wanna bet?" Alfred challenged, sizing up Prussia through the rearview mirror.
"It's not a competition, aru," China chided, attempting to calm things down between the two bristling nations.
"I'm far too old for this," Kiku muttered under his breath.
"Yeah, how much?" the albino shot back, crossing his arms. "I'll bet you ten dollars that the awesome Prussia'll kick your fat ass on the slopes!"
"Oh, please," America snorted, glaring daggers at the cocky Prussian. "The only ass you could kick here is Iggy, and that's because he's totally unathletic! Hahahahahaha!" He made accidental eye contact with said nation, and grimaced. "…Um... oops?"
"How dare you-" Alfred took a sudden swerve and the nations screamed and swore as they were thrown against the side of the van.
"Damnit, Alfred!" Arthur cursed, pulling himself off of Kiku. "Sorry, Japan."
"Please don't think anything of it," the nation replied demurely, but he flushed lightly.
The van pulled slowly up into a driveway, the snow crunching beneath the tires. The nations stared at the huge log cabin lying ahead. Arthur felt an inadvertent shudder course down his spine. It looked almost like something out of a horror movie.
"We're here, dudes!" Alfred cheered, and leapt out of the van. "Snow! Snow! Hahahahahahaha! Hahahahahahahahaha!" His obnoxious laugh rang out loudly through the forest as the rest of the nations hopped out of the van. Grumbling, England opened the door of the van and stepped out into the snow, peering around at the forest.
"How secluded is this place, Alfred?" Arthur wondered out loud.
"Hahahahahaha! Weren't you looking out the windows on the way up?"
"Just give me a straight answer for once, you fuckwit!"
"Geez, Artie, something up your ass?" Alfred muttered as England poked him. "Fine, fine, yes, we're in a very out-of-the-way part of the forest. This is actually my private cabin, dudes! I doubt anyone else knows about this place except for me!" he finished proudly, with a flourish.
"…And me…" Canada added softly, and America grinned.
"Oh yeah, and my bro!" he said. "This place was built in 1927. The guys who owned it before us sold it to me and Mattie-"
"-Mattie and I," Arthur interjected grumpily.
"-Mattie and me, and we used to come here every winter!" He shot his brother a curious look. "Oh yeah, why don't we come here any more?"
"Well, that was before you forgot I exis-"
"What? Did you say something?" Alfred said cheerfully, and Matthew sighed.
"Never mind," he mumbled, burying his face forlornly in the fur of his bear.
"America?" Germany marched across to the smaller nation, who turned and faced him, grinning broadly. The taller blonde regarded the shorter coldly with stern blue eyes. "We've unpacked the bags from the van. Do we carry them in now?" America whistled, impressed, at the sight of the bags piled neatly by the entrance of the cabin door.
"Uh, yeah, dude, that'll be great!" he said. "Come on, guys!" The American bounded towards the cabin, pulling out the keys from his pocket.
"I don't know where Alfred-kun gets all that energy from," Japan remarked expressionlessly, his brown eyes impassive.
"Search me," Arthur murmured, raising an eyebrow at the laughing American boy. The twelve nations crowded through the doorway and into the large wooden cabin. It was dark and the air smelled musty, like stale mothballs.
"Where's the light switch?" Alfred muttered, squinting through the gloom.
"Over here," Canada said quietly, and flipped on the lights, filling the dark room with bright yellow light. America brightened.
"Hahahahahaha, good job, Mattie!" he praised, clapping his brother heftily on the back.
"Thank you, I-"
"I'm starving," Gilbert grumbled, pushing his way through the room. "Do we have anything to eat?"
"We just had a massive meal." Arthur rolled his eyes heavenward. "How much sustenance could you possibly need? You haven't even burned any energy from sitting around in the van!"
"Hey, the awesome me has a large appetite!" the Prussian huffed, poking his tongue out at Arthur. "Seriously though, are we going to ski soon? I need to show off my skills."
"Yeah, yeah, we'll head out soon," Alfred said, drawing the curtains apart to let the sunlight in. Arthur observed the large room slowly, now bathed in daylight. It was a quaint, old-fashioned room with a high ceiling and a large fireplace in the center of the opposite wall. The sofas were large and plump with quilted covers thrown over them, and on top of the polished coffee table rested a large glass vase. The floor was carpeted with scratchy brown material but was scattered with garish green patterned rugs. Arthur scratched his head. It could have been his imagination, but he felt like something was definitely wrong.
"I'm going to go unpack," he stated, and followed Kiku and Francis up the rickety wooden steps. Japan turned and smiled at Arthur.
"Would you like to..." he hesitated, nibbling his lower lip. "Would you like to share a room, Arthur-san?" France cackled and England flushed a deep shade of scarlet.
"I… well… okay…" he managed to stammer out, his cheeks hot with embarrassment and pleasure. "Not that I want… it's not because..."
"Your tsundere-ness is showing through again, Arthur-san," Kiku murmured, his brown eyes gleaming with humour.
"Tsun-?"
"Oh, just go make out already!" Francis crowed and padded down the hallway, lugging his bags behind him as he followed Romano, Gilbert, and Antonio to the room next to theirs. Kiku smiled and Arthur glowered.
"I guess it's just us, then," he said, and hefted his suitcase into the room closest to the stairway. It was a plain, medium sized room with a desk and two simple beds with a tiny rug in the center of the floor. Nothing particularly elaborate, Arthur decided to himself. He set his suitcase down on his side of the room and plopped facedown onto his bed. "We should probably get our ski clothes on," Japan said in amusement, watching England groan.
"I suppose," Arthur said unenthusiastically, struggling into a sitting position reluctantly- then frowned as something crinkled beneath his hand. He stood up and examined the bed, finding a folded piece of paper tucked neatly in a fold between the duvet and the sheets. "Huh? What's this?"
"Open it," Kiku suggested, and the Englishman nodded. The small sheet was blank aside from a short message printed in neat, black letters.
"'I'm watching you. Love, 'the Rose'," Arthur read out loud slowly. He furrowed his brow, crumpling the paper in his hands. "What… is this some sort of joke?" Japan shrugged, his eyes wide and unassuming.
"I have no idea, Arthur-san," he said carefully. "But I suspect it seems like something Francis-san would do." England's green eyes narrowed and he clutched the note tighter.
"Of course!" he exclaimed, his eyes burning. "This is just the sort of creepy thing that pervert would do. And he fancies himself as 'the Rose'," the Englishman scoffed, glaring at the paper. "As if!"
"Should we confront him, Arthur-san?" Kiku asked, his brown eyes gleaming with uncharacteristic mischief.
"No," Arthur decided, his mind slowly formulating a devious plan. He folded the sheet of paper and propped it on the desk. I bet he just wants a reaction. We'll get him back another way, when he's not expecting it." He smirked complacently, pulling on his ski pants. "Right. Ready to go?" Kiku grabbed his goggles and they headed for the door. Arthur hesitated at the door and took another look around the plain room. A sudden chill coursed through England's body, and he felt himself shudder. "Kiku…" The black-haired man turned, his eyes curious.
"Yes, Arthur-san?"
"Do you… does this room feel… cold to you?" Japan frowned.
"Not particularly," he said carefully. "Do you have a fever, Arthur-san?" He placed a concerned hand on Arthur's forehead, and he swatted it away absent-mindedly.
"No, it's not that, it's…." he hesitated. "Something about this place just feels… off. It's too cold, for a start."
"Well, we are in the mountains," Kiku said simply, adjusting his goggles.
"Kiku… do you reckon this place may be… haunted?" Japan sighed.
"Oh, Arthur-san," he said gently. "I think you've been watching too many horror movies." England nodded inattentively. Yes, that must be it. But as the two left the room, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that someone- no, something was watching him.