Thank you to Blind_ALchemist for this new chapter! She is wonderful, I tell you. and Congratz to Kaya! Hehehehehehe. Love you both sooo much.

By the way, I know that Hetalia fandom is decreasing so fast, but at least give me some encouragement? It was discomforting to find that no one actually read the new chapter. Just say hello is enough. or thank Blind_Alchemist.

Enjoy!

"It's true," the leader, the one whose voice spoke of death, was saying. "They're sending the head Eastern Sentinel over here, to grant him a special favor."

"What's that?"

"The cute one. The Guide, Yao Wang. Word has it that the Easterner wants to let him see that traitor Kirkland's grave."

"I thought you would be happy to see Arthur one last time," Yong-Soo was saying. Yao sat with his hands folded in his lap, looking out the window. At the sound of Yong-Soo's voice, Yao turned his head mechanically, as though on a hinge; stared into the Eastern Sentinel's eyes. The two of them sat in silence for a while, and then Yao's gaze returned to his lap.

They were gambling. They both knew what happened. What wasn't said behind those words. Yong Soo wished to show Yao the reality. The reality where Arthur Kirkland, his old lover, was dead. To show Yao that it was time to move on. And of course, Yong Soo woul come forward as the best choice. Yong Soo was being cunning. Or maybe he just wanted to see Yao's smile so much. It hurt him to be constantly reminded how his love would never be reciprocated.

Yao, on the other hand, was deep in his own gambling. He had continued living in a lie, a make believe world where suddenly Arthur would jump from nowhere and took him away. Like all those sappy romantic stories he heard from his mother long time ago. Like the greatest love story of the East. Or maybe he just wanted to run away from the reality, since having the person matters most to you died because of you hurt too much. And if, if he took Yong Soo's offer, he should face the reality: That Arthur was dead, he was alone, Kiku was gone and he needed to learn to love Yong Soo. The Sentinel who had protected him for years and yet Yao couldn't bring himself to love. He needed to move on. And he was ready for it… or not. Who was ever ready to move on? The pain only dulled with time—never went away. How do people move on from their pain?

"Yao." The Guide looked up then, startled; Yong-Soo's eyes were red. Instinctually, with the innate senses of a Guide, Yao leaned forward towards the man; but he did not offer comfort, did not even touch him; only closed the gap between them. "I've thought hard about our life together…" Yong-Soo's voice trailed off. "…I want to say, I'm sorry for what's happened to you. I truly only wanted you to be safe, and to be happy."

Yong-Soo's voice was heavy and his tone was sincere, excruciatingly so. It just cemented Yao's feeling on the man. He knew, so clear, what yong Soo felt towards him. And Yao should be happy. He was worshipped like a Guide should be. Yet… those green eyes haunted him every time.

Yong Soo continued, noticing Yao's pensive eyes. He had enough dancing around Yao's feeling. He wanted more. He couldn't be selfless anymore. He had done everything he could and now Yao should move on. Yao needed this, and God knows how Yong Soo needed Yao to move on. "I thought I was doing the right thing. I did not know I was destroying your family." His voice shook. "I would undo it all, if I could. But you need to move on."

And look at me.

Yao's heart sank. Those unsaid words were so heavy in the air. Yao truly wanted to do so. How easy would it be if he could just take Yong Soo's hand and move on? To love a man who loves him more than he love him? He wanted to reach out and take Yong-Soo's hand then, but he could not. Tears pressed into the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall.

"After we visit Arthur's grave, I plan to give you your freedom," Yong-Soo looked away, watching the paintings on the wall. "I will let you go where you please within the Eastern Tower. Maybe even let you have a job. Wouldn't that be nice?" Yong-Soo's smile turned slightly cold and bitter then, as he studied Yao's face. "The staff is very good. You've been there long enough to know protocol quite well, too. If you need help, I'll see that you get it. Can you say I've not treated you any worse than your precious old Western Sentinel?"

Yong-Soo resumed studying Yao's face. Yao started as Yong-Soo leaned forward and practically thrust his face into the Guide's.

"Your old lover Arthur is dead, Yao. You have to accept it."

Yao clenched his teeth, hating the words coming out of Yong-Soo' mouth. It was taking every ounce of Yao's self-control to not unclench his fists, to keep from leaping up, throwing open the carriage door and dashing outside, to keep from weeping until he cried his throat out. He showed nothing and said nothing.

"You have hurt me so deeply with your unhappiness—out of all the people in this war, in this entire world, only you could hurt me like this. Please, Yao, wake up. Stop pushing away those who are trying to help you."

A tear slipped from a corner of Yao's left eye.

"Won't you love me?" It might have been a whisper, the voice was that soft.

Yao's head shot up.

"Won't you please smile at me?" Yong-Soo's voice was louder this time. Yao paused, hunting for the right words to break his silence.

"Thank you."

Yong-Soo stiffened at Yao's response. Yao spoke again, his voice still small, but less shaky, more solid.

"I've been stolen away, again and again; first from the only home I knew, and then from the only man I've ever loved. I've been taken from my only son, the last family I have. Since you have taken me to the Eastern Tower I haven't had a full night's sleep. In my dreams, I am surrounded by dozens of Sentinels who see me like a piece of meat, wanting my so called power and defile me without my consent, again, again and all the want was—"

The Eastern Sentinel sitting across from him flinched.

"—my nakedness, and never my soul."

Yao looked Yong-Soo in the eyes then, whispering, "Thank you, for caring for me so deeply."

"I love you," Yong-Soo said.

Yao turned away without giving any sign that he'd heard.

"The little Guide, Yao Wang, and the Eastern Sentinel plan on arriving here the day after tomorrow. Late in the morning is when they're scheduled to arrive." Kiku pressed his head hard against the wall to listen, even though the rough brickstone hurt his ear. "I heard through the usual channels," the rough voice continued, almost nonchalantly. "If we get rid of the Eastern Sentinel and make it look like an accident, we can snatch that pretty Guide and keep him for ourselves."

"Stupid!" One of his cohorts interjected. "Why would the other Eastern Sentinels ever believe such a lie, that we killed him by accident?"

"You're the foolish one. That particular Eastern Sentinel, Im Yong-Soo, is strictly forbidden from ever visiting this Tower. That was the one of the stipulations during the peace talks with that damned other Tower. If we are ever to catch him here again, whatever happens afterwards cannot be blamed on us—and furthermore, we can say that we rightfully took into custody the prize that he brought with him."

"Then it's settled," a third voice chimed in. "Tomorrow, at oh-six-hundred, we'll have a sniper and his regular backup ready to observe the graveyard from the northeast point of the Tower. Take at least three Sentinels and one of the Hunters to keep watch over the Guide as they are led to the graveyard. At my signal, the sniper will aim towards Yong-Soo, and immediately after we shoot him, the three Sentinels and Hunter will swarm the Guide. Try not to kill whoever leads them there if they are Western Tower personnel, but if they get in the way, then it's no holds barred."

There was silence, but Kiku could picture the others nodding in agreement. His heart was thundering in his throat. He had only the vaguest idea who these two, whoever the rough Western Sentinels were discussing—the Guide, and the Sentinel Yong-Soo—but they sounded like they were definitely in grave danger, and all for only visiting the grave of an old friend.

Guide. Yao Wang.

The boy turned on his heel and stole down the hallway, away from the gaggle of tall, fearsome-looking men. Halfway through the corridor, he sped up, nearly tripping over his clumsy, pudgy feet. He didn't stop running until he arrived in his private quarters. Roderich was there, sitting at his ornate desk, penning something in his music sheets. "Kiku!" his tutor exclaimed, placing down his sheets at once, "what's the matter?"

Kiku didn't speak until he caught his breath. "Master Edelstein," he began slowly, "I heard there was to be a private ceremony tomorrow, held in the cemetery gardens."

Roderich froze, visibly surprised and—distraught? "I see," he said, carefully and deliberately. "Where did you hear about this?"

In his unsettlingly adult-like way, Kiku brushed this question off. "I would like to attend it."

Though he might hold the lofty position of High Tutor, Roderich was still under the precious future-Guide's command, and was required to follow the little Guide's every order. "I'll see what I can do, Kiku."

"That always means no," Kiku said at once, resorting momentarily to the child he truly was. "Teacher, I would like to attend it, if only from—far—far—"

"From afar?" Roderich finished, and he played with his pen as he visibly relaxed. "We can certainly view it from the East balcony, Ki—"

"No. I want to be in the main crowd. Front and center."

"Why do you insist on this so much? I know," Roderich said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "Why don't we go to the libraries instead and watch a play? Or go swimming?"

"There's something I must see, Teacher. I overheard about the ceremony in the cafeteria; it was another Sentinel, standing nearby, who brought up 'Yao Wang.'" Roderich dropped his pen. "I have to see him. That's an order." Kiku had never issued a direct order to his Tutor before.

Before Roderich could open his mouth to respond, Kiku added: "And you can't tell anyone else about this."

Yao bit down at his internal scream, steeling himself as best he could against the overpowering wave of Sentinel auras crashing into him from every direction. But even against an experienced Guide like him, it taxed him so badly he had trouble stepping out of the carriage. The guard Sentinel helping him down from the carriage grew sober as soon as he took Yao's hand, his eyes shining, and as Yao stepped onto the thick grass, he could practically feel the waves of lust pulsating from the man. It made him feel light-headed and want to vomit.

The Eastern Sentinel pulled Yao to the side and whispered in his ear. "Wait here," Yong-Soo looked in his eyes, and swiftly departed while calling out more loudly, "I'll be right back."

Glancing around the compound, Yao's heart sank. Despite the presence of heavier ivy covering the walls and the appearance of some new faces in the castle staff, he could see that the Western Tower hadn't changed much at all since he'd last been here, several years ago. Returning to the very grounds where he'd been imprisoned and raped repeatedly, and where Arthur had been murdered, was like re-living his deepest, darkest nightmares.

He had to remain strong.

"Where are you from?" The guard whose eyes were full of lust asked him nonchalantly, as though he were actually truly interested. He was standing merely inches away from the Guide, hulking over Yao's much smaller form. And Yao wondered again. How bad was the Western Towers, for all their Sentinels were more unsettled and uncontrolled compared to Eastern Tower? Why was that every Western Sentinel he met always watch him in lustful eyes? Was there not enough Guides?

Was that one of the reason why Arthur took him? Not because Arthur wanted him—it was just because Yao was conveniently there—and for him to take. Because of the need and lust, not because the emotions? Maybe Yao all along was romanticizing the whole memory about the man?

Catching himself in time, Yao scowled. He was trying to detach himself from the memory of Arthur Kirkland already. He started to question Arthur now—maybe he was ready to move on. And when he thought about it, clearly the initial reason why Arthur took him was because Yao was an unbonded Guide and Arthur was a lustful, unbonded, needy Sentinel.

"The East," Yao replied carefully. He was wondering what was taking Yong-Soo so long.

"Whereabouts?"

"Dalou."

"Hmph. Never heard of it."

"You would like it," Yao replied out of politeness, "I miss it there."

"What about him?" The Guard jerked his head in Yong-Soo's direction. "Is he from that area too?"

"No, he—" Yao didn't bother finishing as he spotted Yong-Soo coming back up the hill, flanked by two more Guards.

"I feel out of my depth, talking to you," the Guard resumed. "I was a soldier in the Western-Eastern War, and here I don't even recognize where you hail from."

"It's okay," Yao said, keeping his eyes trained on Yong-Soo's approaching form. "I'm not too adept myself, at your history."

"I was only there last year," the Guard said bluntly. "I wager I'm even younger than you."

Yao looked at him more closely then. He had fine brown hair and his melancholy pout struck him as boyish, all of a sudden. His frame was fine-boned and fit, after all. Whatever he had endured in battle had apparently added five, ten, fifteen years onto his true age.

"Be careful today," the Guard then cautioned. "I can feel an ill wind that'll blow nobody good."

Yao stared at the man for a moment before feeling Yong-Soo take his slender arm. "Th-thank you, Mister—" he fumbled.

"Antonio," the Guard replied. "Antonio Carriedo."

"Yao, let's go," Yong-Soo urged. At that moment, a light rain began to fall.

"You're still as the beautiful as the day I first laid eyes on you," Antonio said in a tone too low to be overheard, as Yong-Soo and Yao departed towards the gates, "the time we first stole you from Kirkland."

When they arrived at the cemetery, there was a small crowd there to lead them in through the hedges. Yao kept his head bowed, not sure of what to expect; his footsteps, already hesitant, seemed to feel heavier and heavier. Meanwhile, the light rain had ceased; sunlight glistened off the rows and rows of polished white tombstones.

"Welcome." The Sentinel greeting them smiled an oily smile, and led them with a single hand into the gardens surrounding the main cemetery. Without a moment's hesitation, Yong-Soo went in, pulling Yao Wang firmly after.

But there was something wrong. There should not be such a strong Sentinel aura here, not surrounding them from every conceivable side. They were only there to pay respects to a grave. Why was he feeling hostile auras from around the entire vicinity of the cemetery?

"Yong-Soo, we have to go," Yao said, the hair on the back of his scalp prickling.

"What is it Yao?" Yong-Soo sounded almost exasperated. "We made it here. There's nothing to worry about now."

"You don't understand! There's—"

Yong-Soo gave a cry as Yao threw himself at his chest, tackling him to the ground. But he was off by a mere microsecond—the bullet pierced through Yong-Soo's right arm, letting loose a flying stream of blood. Yong-Soo did not cry out as he was hit, but his face turned ashen and his eyes rolled towards the back of his head.

"My God!" somebody shouted. Yao felt someone wrenching him upwards by the collar, away from the Eastern Sentinel. A huge Guard Sentinel yanked him to the side; flecks of Yong-Soo's blood flew from Yao's fingers all over his uniform.

"He's down! He's down!" the Sentinel who had been guiding Yao and Yong-Soo inside, barked at his subordinates. "Get them out of here!" Two guards surrounded Yong-Soo and grasped his arms and legs, lifting him up.

Flailing, Yao cried out in alarm as one of the muscled arms holding him twisted one of his thin arms expertly behind his back. Another curled around his throat, winding tighter and tighter around his jugular, attempting to knock him out with a sleeper hold.

"Stop!" a tinny voice came out of nowhere. The sound of it made Yao's heart stop.

The startled Sentinel holding the Eastern Guide stopped applying pressure to Yao's Adam's Apple. A pair of little pudgy feet dashed as fast as they could towards the two of them, and did not halt until they were directly in front of them.

"Free his arms," the voice, now out of breath, ordered. "I want to look at him."

It was a child, with shiny black hair and a small, moon-shaped face. As Yao stared at the child, tears flooded furiously from his unblinking golden eyes. They poured like a spigot down his chin onto his clothes, though his facial expression, as well as his entire body, remained frozen in place. A lock of black hair fell, unheeded, over the beautiful Guide's face now glazed in tears.

"…Kiku?" he managed, when he could get his mouth working.

The child stared back at him, dumbfounded. His eyes widening to the size of saucers, his jaw fell unhinged, although no words came out.

"Kiku?" Yao said, his voice breaking. "Is it really you?"

"Who are you? Why do you know my name?" The boy looked surprised for a moment, but just before he was pulled up like a kicked puppy by one of the Guard.

"Who let this little Prince in? Roderich, that scum." The Sentinel growled. His eyes were red and his hair was white. He watched as the boy struggled, and the Eastern Guide fighting against his captor.

"Release Kiku, aru! Don't hurt him!" Yao screamed, hands were already out to scratch his captor, while he unconsciously released his Guide calming power. And like it was on cue, every Sentinel in that place dropped their senses, eyes closed and they became docile—like they had been drugged by a super recreation drug.

Yao took his chance and grabbed Kiku from the white haired Sentinel. The boy wailed, but no sound came out from his throat. Yao's arms were crushing him into the effeminate man's bosom; yet somehow Kiku didn't mind at all. It felt so nostalgic.

He knew those arms, from long time ago.

"Kiku… Oh my Kiku…" Yao whispered, enjoying the child in his arms. Yes, his baby was alive. And when suddenly one of the Sentinel dropped to his knees, Yao was forced to come back into the reality.

He quickly took Kiku's hand and grabbed it as hard as he could, then kneeled beside Yong Soo.

The man was, fortunately, gaining his consciousness. The shock from being hit by the bullet was immense, but Yao's sudden burst of calming power reduced the pain and thus, awaken him. It gave him the opposite effect of other Sentinels. And he saw Yao with a boy.

Yao's baby.

"Are you ok, aru? We need to run. Quick!"

Yong Soo groaned, but he steeled himself and took hold. Once he could stand, he held his breath and grabbed both Yao and Kiku into his arms.

"Hold tight."

By that, he rushed out from the cemetery as fast as he could, with his injury as well as the additional two humans inside his arms.

Belgium didn't know whether she should curse or bless the day he went to the farm to find three unconscious bodies on the outskirt of the woods.

TBC.

Review? As I said, please thank Blind_Alchemist for this chapter! Thank you for reading!