"What are you doing, Matteo?" Fidel asked, sounding somewhat bemused.

"Packing my backs," Matthew answered without turning, "isn't that obvious?" He stuffed two neatly folded shirts into his suitcase with a lot more force than necessary. By the time he arrived in Ottawa, his clothes would probably be all crumpled, but he could not have cared less.

"Yes, I can see that," Fidel said, "it just doesn't make sense to me. Since Kiku moved this afternoon's talks to tomorrow morning to give everybody time to calm down, the conference doesn't end until lunchtime tomorrow. You'll have plenty of time to pack your stuff."

"I'm leaving now," Matthew replied flatly. He reached for a black folder and his pristine notepad. Clearly, this conference had been a waste of time. He hadn't even gotten around taking any notes.

"Oye, Matteo…" Fidel began.

Matthew looked up, shooting him an unfriendly look. The Cuban lounged on the bed, munching homemade buñuelos from a brown paper bag.

"You'll get crumbs all over my bed sheets," Matthew remarked.

I'm starting to sound like Ludwig. Surely, that cannot be a good sign…?

Fidel shrugged. "If you don't plan to sleep in this bed tonight, it doesn't really matter. I don't get it, though… what are you running from? Embarrassment? A fight with Arthur? Or maybe your feelings for Ivan?"

"I don't want to talk about Ivan." And he didn't want to think about him either, thank you very much. Silently cursing Fidel, Matthew folded a burgundy colored hoodie and placed it on top of the folder.

"Fine. Let's talk about you instead. What exactly is your problem? You can tell me. I'm your friend." He stressed the last word; then clicked his tongue depreciatively.

"Has anybody ever told you that you can be a terrible nuisance?" Matthew groaned.

"Oh, people tell me that all the time… if they talk to me at all. You know, your brother is still sort of trying to ignore me. It's rather funny, actually. Anyway, I'm not as bad as Gilbert. I think Ludwig and Roderich are the only people who can stand him at all."

"Roderich?" Matthew asked. "I doubt that. He's just resigned himself to the fact that he is Gilbert's victim of choice."

"Maybe," Fidel nodded, "but getting right back on topic – what's the matter with you?"

"It's… complicated," Matthew replied, pressing down the lid of his suitcase.

Fidel chuckled softly. "That doesn't exactly surprise me, you know. You're a complicated person… nation, whatever."

"Me?" Matthew snorted.

"Absolutely. And adding complicated to complicated won't give you simple, either. I'm talking about Ivan, of course… er – and I'm not supposed to talk about him, right? Okay, then. Back to you, I guess. Why are you so upset? Okay, so maybe you did something stupid, and maybe Arthur saw something he wasn't supposed to see, but it's hardly the end of the world, is it?"

"Fidel" – Matthew finally looked up, a pained expression on his face – "it's Arthur."

Could it get any worse?

"Yes…? And…?"

Matthew shook his head. "You don't understand. It's just… bad. And to make things worse; he'll probably tell Alfred."

Fidel frowned. "That's hard to imagine. I mean, Arthur isn't exactly a pacifist; but I don't think he wants to start the third world war. Alfred would freak out if he heard anything about you and Ivan…"

Exactly.

"You see?" Matthew asked, sighing. "It's a mess. I was an idiot to think that somehow, this would work out. I thought that Ivan was my biggest problem, but as it turns out, he's the least of them…"

Because, let's face it – Ivan may be the specter of the international community; but he only poses a danger to my sanity and composure. Arthur and Alfred, on the other hand… well. If Arthur really wanted, he could threaten my existence as a sovereign nation. His head of state is also my head of state, and she likes him a lot more than she likes me. And Alfred… my loudmouthed brother is also my next-door-neighbor and if he comes to the conclusion that he has to send his troops across the border in order to "protect" me, there isn't all that much I could do about that…

"Well, he's still your biggest problem, I think," Fidel replied, amused and smiling, "but he should be easier to deal with than the rest of them. Especially considering that he's absolutely smitten with you."

And much good it does me, when my dear family won't even give me a moment to be happy about it before ruining everything…! Matthew involuntarily balled his fists. "I don't know," Matthew replied moodily. "Right now, I just want to go home."

Fidel's smile, he noticed, had disappeared. Instead, his friend cast him a worried look. "Mind if I tag along…?"

Matthew was tempted to say 'yes', but then thought better of it. Having a friend and potential ally around might not be such a bad thing when Arthur and/or Alfred sought him out to rant about the reckless insensibility of entering into any kind of personal relationship with Ivan.

He shrugged.

"Okay, let me go and grab my stuff," Fidel said.

Roderich was in the process of dressing for dinner that night, when Gilbert stuck his head into the room without knocking first. "Hey, Roddy! Have you seen Matthew anywhere?"

Sighing, Roderich turned around to face the red-eyed menace. "Don't call me that, Gilbert. And no, I haven't seen him since we adjourned the meeting for lunch. Which is unsurprising, considering that he has left for Ottawa."

"Matthew's gone home?" Gilbert looked startled. "Why?"

"Personal reasons," Roderich replied shortly, turning back to the mirror. If he had been hoping to be able to leave it at that, he was, however, sorely mistaken. Gilbert stepped fully inside and closed the door behind himself before walking across the room to stand behind Roderich. Very closely behind Roderich, in fact.

Roderich fumbled with his tie, trying to ignore the fact that there was barely a span of air between his back and Gilbert's chest. He cursed his trembling fingers.

He should not be able to do that to me anymore… one should think that I had grown accustomed to him in the five centuries that he's been around.

But apparently not accustomed enough.

"Let me do that. Hold still." Surprisingly gently, Gilbert pushed his hands out of the way and straightened the tie. It took him no more than twenty seconds, but in those twenty seconds, his arms were essentially around Roderich, who stopped breathing.

"There you go," Gilbert said and patted him on the shoulder. "You look nice, by the way."

Roderich's eyes widened slightly and he stared down at his shoes to hide the blush that crept upon his cheeks.

A compliment…? Did I miss something? Is it 'be on your best behavior' day or did someone spike his drink…?

"Äh… I should probably tell Kiku that Matthew has left," he mumbled.

"Probably," Gilbert agreed, "but first you should tell me why he left. It's got something to do with Ivan, doesn't it?"

"You knew about that?"

"Duh. Matthew told me a couple of weeks ago. He came to Berlin, all troubled and upset, and we had an enlightening conversation about mistletoe, redemption and sociopaths. West and Feli were there, too."

"And what do you think about the whole matter?" Roderich asked cautiously.

"That Mattie is suffering from a temporary bout of insanity." Gilbert shrugged, but the mirror image of his face looked worried. "Hopefully, it'll wear off before anything bad happens."

"Uh…" Roderich faltered.

In a flash, Gilbert grabbed his shoulders and spun him around until they were face to face. "Roddy…? Did anything bad happen…?"

Roderich didn't reply immediately – he was busy trying to regain his balance.

"I… look; I don't think Matthew was harmed in any way. At least not by Ivan. But Ivan's on the warpath right now, and the fact that Yao and Vash had to keep him from disemboweling Arthur sort of indicates that something has happened. My guess would be that Arthur learnt about Ivan's affection for Matthew a bit prematurely and that he did not take the news well."

"I can't blame him", Gilbert replied, frowning.

"It's understandable, I suppose," Roderich agreed. "Are you joining us for dinner?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Of course you do. It's not compulsory."

"No, but West'll make me feel bad if I don't show up."

Roderich smiled. "Your brother and your keeper, right?"

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "I'm the elder! And way more awesome than Ludwig. It's just not fair."

Roderich shrugged. "Life never is."

Sleet was slowly transforming into snow as dusk threw its grey coat over the city of Moscow. A pale, slender young woman stepped into the small coffee shop, her shimmering blond hair slightly wet. She moved through the room with long, purposeful strides and came to a halt in front of a table that was pushed against the far wall.

"Katyusha," she said without a greeting, "do you know where our brother is?"

Breathing a soft sigh, Katyusha looked up from the book she had been reading.

"I have been searching the entire city for him," Natalia continued. Her soprano voice sounded whiny like that of a small child, but it also held an edge of anxiety.

"I know," Katyusha replied softly, "I have been waiting for him to return, too. But he did not come."

"Where is he?" Natalia asked. "Something happened in Tokyo, didn't it?"

Her sister nodded. "Yes, but I don't know any details. Ivan was upset, though. There was an… argument."

"He got into a fight," Natalia stated flatly.

"Yes."

"How bad?"

Katyusha shook her head. "I don't know. But I might have an idea as to where he went."

"Yes…?"

"Where he always goes when he is upset: St. Petersburg."

"I will go and visit him." Natalia turned around and started to walk away.

"Wait!" Katyusha called, "I'll go with you."

57 reviews! You people are AWESOME! I love reading your comments and I'm really glad you seem to enjoy this story as much as I do. This chapter was a bit anticlimactic compared to the last one, but I felt that it was necessary. There'lll be more of Ivan and Mattie in the next one ;)