AN: Hey guys. Sorry for the late update, but I've kind of been a little depressed because my friend just moved to Mexico (damn you!). Not only did I lose a friend, but also a manga buddy. Also Happy Holidays my Hetalia lovers!
Resha04: I know, I kind of feel bad for Feli too. He grew up to be such a demented person with his mother fearing him and his first kill being a six year old girl. I don't you using Rina's name for your story. I just picked that name because most people use Maria.
Shadow Cat17: Sorry I didn't catch you last chapter. Thanks for reviewing.
Rainfall SopranaofIreland: (chapter 2) Thank you for telling me that. I really thought it just meant "fuck you". (chapter 4) I think yandere Italy is awesome in fics too.
Before You Start A War
In the thick, grey fog a woman could seen. Sitting up on top of a cliff, she sat at the edge of the cliff with her legs swinging over it. The light breeze ruffled her dress and flew through her long wild tresses. She looked down at the raging sea that crashed against the cliff and then out into the distance. Her eyes were filled with pure sorrow and misery was spelled across her features.
She outstretched her arm, trying to grab at what wasn't there. The thing she could never reach- never touch nor obtain. Slowly pulling her arm back, she finally spoke.
"Let no bell toll; lest her sweet soul admit it's hallow mirth. As it doth float up from the damned earth." Behind her a bell rang, a sound that she knew all too well. Letting out a laugh, she rakes her hand through her hair. She then says bitterly, "I guess it still isn't time yet, but it is close. Only a matter of time before everything comes to play, but does time really matter in a place like this?"
She throws her head back and looks up at the grey skies above. Grey. Everything was always shades of grey, nothing black or white. It was all just grey. This place was once beautiful and hers, but over time it's crumbled into near nothingness. Only little bit of life left was the crimson carnation that she held in her in her hand. The last lifeline. But for who? It was too early for her to tell.
Rising to her feet, she stood with feet teetering back on forth over the edge. It was as if she was testing the limits of her faith. If she fell would she live or drown? But in reality she knew the answer all too well.
Looking back into the distance, she sadly sighs. The wind begins to pick up and it quickly whips her hair forward. She holds out her carnation, her testament. "Don't you dare fail me now, my sweet innocence. With everything to take, but so little to give I'm surprised we all haven't fallen by now." She glances down at her hand and grips the flower tightly. Shouting, almost if she was cursing at the wind itself, she states, "Somehow, don't you dare fail. As long as there is something- someone- fight for it! Please!"
As she closes her eyes the wind dies down and she turns away from the raging sea. 'I'll be waiting, the woman thought to herself. She then walks quietly back into in the mist, carnation stilled clutched in hand.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
With the hotel phone tightly clutched in, the Italian let a shaky breath escape him. His trembling fingers slowly pushed the buttons on the phone, dialing his number. It was time. It was time to do one of the hardest things he would ever in his entire life. Lovino presses the phone to his ear as he listened to it ring.
The sound of the house phone ringing breaks Antonio away from his thoughts. He rushes down the stairs and pull it off the hook. The Spaniard puts it to his ear and hesitantly states, "Hello?"
"Antonio…"
The sound of his voice almost took his breath away. Relief flowed through and gave him hope. Nothing bad had happened to him. 'Walking up without you next to me nearly killed me.' Swallowing thickly, he says, "Lovi, where are you? Everyone's worried about you and Carita has been a complete wreck since she found out you were gone."
"I'm going away for a little while. I want you to forget about me. Pretend you never met me and go back to America. Go back and live a normal life with your friends and family."
The Spaniard's blood immediately ran cold. Antonio could not believe that this was his Lovi talking to him like this. He grips the house phone tightly and asks softly, "You're with them, aren't you? You went to the Vargas'. Why?"
There's a long moment of silence as Lovino begins to speak up. He bites his lip before choking out, "I-It's for the best and it was better for me to leave anyway. I'll be fine so there's nothing to worry about, bastardo."
But he knew. The tone in his lover's voice held a faint fake tone of cheeriness as if everything was going to be okay, but it wasn't. It was all just one huge fucking disaster. Antonio knew that on the other side of the line that Lovino was putting on a façade, forcing himself to happy. And worst part of all was that the Italian was doing it to protect him.
His mood darkens as he says, "Mentiroso (Liar). Don't you dare lie to me. How could give yourself up to them like that? I thought you trusted me."
"I had no choice! Don't make this any harder than it already has to be!" Lovino demands. His voice was raised, but his tone was still a little shaky.
"There's always a choice!"
"You think I asked for this? I never wanted any goddamn part of it!" Lovino takes a deep breath before he continues. He whispers, "There's no reason for anyone else to hurt because of me. I don't want to lose anyone else."
The Italian waited for words but they never came. Only the bitter silence at the other end of the line that made him grit his teeth and snarl in frustration. "Fuck, I wish I never met you!" He whispered angrily, even though regret was hanging on the end of his tone.
The Spaniard let his body sag against the wall. "You don't mean that," he said slowly.
"I do! None of this would have happened if I never met you."
Antonio sighed and shook his head. Getting angry with Lovino was only going to get him into a fight which would get him nowhere. The Spaniard needed to be a lot less inconsiderate, especially when the Italian was the one hurting the most. He then asks softly, "Then why are you crying, Lovi?"
The Italian's knees grew weak as he fell to floor, his back sliding slowly down the wall. Tears cascaded down Lovino's wet cheeks and the small breaths he took came out quick and uneasy. Once again, that same question broke down his defenses. It opened up the floodgates of tears that he had tried so hard to suppress.
"Lovino?" The Spaniard's voice held a sense concern that made the guilt weigh heavier on his heart.
Broken, the Italian pleads, "Don't try to find me because there's no use in doing so. It's already too late for me. Please take care of Cara. I'm sorry, Antonio..." Before Antonio could get another word in Lovino presses the end button and places the hotel room phone back on the receiver.
The Italian's tears made little plops as they rolled down his cheeks and fell down to his lap. 'I don't wanna be in love- to be in love with him. Not if it hurts this much. But, it hurts a million times fucking worse trying to say goodbye.' Lovino throws his head back and lets out a heart retching cry. His screams of sorrows and howls of his lover's name echoed throughout the room.
In the rainy country, the house phone falls from Antonio's hand. He lets it hang by its cord as he stared blankly into the distance. 'No. Lovino, don't go. Please don't go. I should have tried harder to make you stay. Damn! "Antonio, who were you just talking to?"
The Spaniard looks to his left to see Esperanza and Michal shaking off their wet umbrellas. They were back from walking through the streets of London, searching for the little Italian. His gaze drops to the ground as he bows his head and says quietly, "Lovino."
"Then where is he?" his aunt questioned.
"Gone, and I blame myself." That was the only thing Antonio could say. He turned and began to ascend up the stairs, but stops halfway.
Reli said concerned, "Antonio, none of this is your fault. You didn't know what was going happen."
Not sparing them a single glance in their direction, the Spaniard states in low tone, "He left. He gave himself to them. He did so we could live. That's the only reason why we're alive right now." He the continued to walk up the stairs, not hearing another single word from either of them.
Antonio drags his slowly down the hall. The only thing on his mind was his Italian as thousands of images flashed before his eyes. "Ciao, bastard. Tomato Bastardo! No. Way. In. Hell. Stronzo! How long, bastardo?! Grazie. Antonio? Stop blaming yourself over something you couldn't control! Tough tomatoes. Why didn't stop me?! I could have hurt you! I could have killed you. You could have- You could have- But you're also loving, considerate, kind, caring, patience, helpful, and just so happy all the time. You actually give a damn about me even though I lack those things. P-Put me down! Don't say things you don't mean. Damn it, I just… can't. T-Ti amo. I never wanted any goddamn part of this! I'm sorry, Antonio…" Lovino's sweet smile, laugh, temper, stubbornness, voice, stuttering, blush, and that special spark that would make his eyes light up- he was about to lose it all. Never to see him, hear him, touch him, or hold him ever again. The Spaniard's heart violently convulsed and his hand shot up to clench the front of shirt. It took all his willpower as he struggled not to scream.
He dragged his feet until he ended up at Cara's room. The Spaniard slowly opens the door to hear her tiny sniffles filling the room. Antonio sees her with her back facing him and her shaking shoulders slumped over. Cara turns towards him and sobbed, "Tio." With teary bloodshot eyes and dried tear tracks staining her cheeks, he could tell she had been crying for a long time and had yet to stop.
Antonio rushes over to her and wraps his arms around her small, frail frame. It was if the floodgates released as a sea tears flowed out from her. She buried her face in his chest as he lightly rubbed her back. The Spaniard softly shushed her. "Está bien. Todo va a estar bien. Así que por favor no llores. (It's okay. Everything will be okay. So please don't cry.)"
Cara shook her head doubtfully. She states, "No lo es. Se ha ido. Salió, igual que papá y mamá. (It's not. He's gone. He left- just like Papa and Mama.)" She lowers her head and then says quietly, "Estoy solo. Yo no tengo a nadie a la izquierda. Ninguna familia. (I'm alone. I don't have anyone left. No family.)"
Tightening his hold on her, Antonio replies, "Tía Esperanza, Michal y yo somos su familia. Carita, a pesar de que sus padres y Lovi se han ido, no pidieron ser. Probablemente haría cualquier cosa por estar aquí en este momento. Usted nunca estará solo, siempre y cuando mantengas en tu corazón. ¿Entiendes? (Tia Esperanza, Michal and I are your family. Carita, even though your parents and Lovi are gone, they didn't ask to be. They'd probably do anything to be here right now. You will never be alone as long as you keep them in your heart. Understand?)"
Cara gives him a hesitant nod as he states, "Te juro que lo traerá de vuelta. (I swear I will bring him back.)"
"Promesa? (Promise?)"
"Te lo prometo. (I promise.)"
XXXXXXXXXXXX
He cracked open his eyes only to meet the harsh rays of the sun's light. The Italian shielded his eyes from the blinding sunshine as a familiar voice assaulted his ears. "You truly are pathetic, fratellone."
Lovino's eyes dart over to his right. He sees Feliciano sitting there at the edge of the bed. He had a disapproving frown that was slowly curving up into a smug smirk on his face. His eyes briefly leave the Italian as he lets out a sigh.
"Ve~ I mean I thought I would be able to give you a bit more credit, but you are just pathetic. I get here and find you passed out on the floor. Sergio and a few others told me that they could hear you all the way down the hall. I guess it's a good thing Papa rented out this entire floor or there would have been a lot of complaints." Feli gives him a small shrug and then snickers. "At first I thought you were drunk. You know, to crawl into a bottle and forget your troubles. But no, I discovered something much better. Tell me, does it hurt?"
Feli reaches out to him, but Lovino backs away out of his reach. "Don't you dare touch me," he snarled.
Surprisingly, the Vargas teen retracts his hand. He feigns a hurt expression and says, "Now don't be so mean, fratellone. After all, I did tuck you in. Anyway, I never thought you'd sink so low as to follow the same path as your parents. And like they them, it's a story that is ending so tragically."
Angrily, Lovino demands, "What the hell are you talking about?!"
"You've fallen in love with Antonio like Katerina did with Innocenzio," Feliciano deadpanned. "Like father, like son, but I'm assuming you're the bitch in the relationship."
Balling his hands up into tight fists, Lovino grits his teeth and growled. Parts of him didn't understand why his brother turned out this while other parts just wished that burning in Dante's Inferno for all he's done. Damn him. The Italian yells, "What are you going to gain from this? She was your mother too!"
The smirk drops from his face and Lovino swore could see sorrow flash through Feli's eyes. The Vargas teen seethed with anger as he pushed the Italian down on the bed. He straddled his hips, pinning his brother to the bed. Lovino struggled against his grip as he roughly grabbed his chin and pressed a gun to his forehead. They locked eyes; the willful fighting against the enraged. Neither one of them were backing down any time soon. "That woman was never my mother."
"I'm not scared of you."
The Vargas teen retorts, "You should be." He licks his lips before saying, "I am going to enjoy breaking you. Even cut, bruise, and drop of blood will be a special gift from me."
Narrowing his eyes into a fierce glare, Lovino states harshly, "You can try, but you will never break me."
Almost completely disregarding his statement, Feliciano whispered with his finger on the trigger, "Let's play a game. I'll ask you one simple question and your answer will determine if I take your life or not. So choose your words wisely. Now, do you believe in God, fratellone?" Let's see if what he'll say anything interesting- maybe actually what I want to hear.
Looking him straight in the eyes, the Italian says, "Go to hell!"
Feliciano tsked and chuckled darkly. The game was getting even more interesting and that ignited the fire that burned throughout his entire body. That same murderous glint had appeared in his eyes, but this time it was heavily laced with hellish insanity. "Now that's not an answer, fratellone. But I guess if you believe in hell you must believe in God." He sighed, raising the gun off the Italian's forehead as he shrugged shoulders. His brother had remained unresponsive and unwilling to bend to his will. Fratellone's always so difficult, but I guess that's what makes it a better game to play.
Finally, Feli puts the pistol back in its original place on his target and states, "Good answer, fratellone." Lovino braced himself, never breaking eye contact as the other pulled the trigger.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
"Don't make promises that will kill you whether if you can keep them or not. Let the games begin between the angel, the devil, the innocent, the phantom, the damned, the wrathful, and the warrior. Seven tortured souls all at the end of their thin ropes with everything to lose and yet so little left to give. But which is which in this terrible, twisted affair?"
A/N: Alright, I am a terrible person. And a masochist… *dodges pomegranate and fails* Damn, I was wearing a white shirt.
Calciver: Whiner.
Me: Shut up!
Calciver: You can't even handle a stupid piece of fruit.
Me: They're messy, but can I have some pocky so I can feel better?
Calciver: Go get your own pocky.
Me: So mean…