Thanks to Redbayly and NadiaJA627 for reviewing. I'm sorry for uploading this late. Some of you probably know that I updated a couple days ago, but I deleted the chapter because I started not to like it. But after some checking and corrections, it's now ready. I apologize for the confusion. Now, on with the show!
(Jet Set Radio Future OST: Aisle 10)
Despite how right now he didn't really give a damn about Betsy's backstory or whatever, there were some things he just didn't get about her.
To start things off, what the fucking fuck did she see in that cross-dressing Catholic valley girl? Allen wondered if this nutty version of the Poland who once made Gil's life a living hell back then had some kind of hidden depth or some shit. No one could be that amazingly dense and silly after almost dying a shit ton of times and going through the hell that was the Holocaust and then the Soviet Union.
There was one guy who went through a similar thing, and he turned out great.
Then again, maybe they're friends 'cause they're both fucking nuts. Seriously, a cross-dressing Catholic valley girl who survived the Holocaust and the Soviet Union who's childhood friends with a chick who found out she didn't have a dick when she hit puberty, used a frying pan as a weapon, and who also loved seeing guys 'duking it out'. Why, they're made for each other.
Not like some of Betsy's other buddies were that much better. Lightner Slovakia's a sloppy easy-going dude who didn't punch Czechia for being an annoying bitch and due to some complicated stuff, he's not on very good terms with Betsy. Lightner Bosnia and Herzegovina were happily/unhappily married but weren't hopelessly in love with each other. Lightner Bulgaria had a part-time job as a yogurt fairy (no, really). You get his point, right?
And maybe that's also why she's all buddy-buddy with Alfred now. He's pretty nuts too. They're all nuts, one way or another…
Yet ironically, despite how creepy her gay fetish was or how Lightner Poland's cross-dressing made no sense (although, when did cross-dressing ever made any fucking sense?), they're one of the few sane bastards left in Europe. For not falling for the whole 'refugee' shtick and not letting the leeching assholes overrun their countries, they have Allen's respect.
When thinking of the whole sitchiation in Europe, Allen always couldn't help but wonder what good o'l Saudi and the Middle Eastern gang would think about it. Hell, sometimes he even wondered what the pieces of pigshit of this world's Europe would think. Saudi would laugh at the Lightners, that's for sure. And the others, well, who would blame them for being ashamed of having the same faces as those pushovers?
But Saudi… Heh, that guy would help set them straight. The other guys could be pretty terrifying in their own ways too. Ha! Allen would pay a billion bucks to see how those damn Lightners would react to them.
Gah, he's getting off-topic again. Damn his short attention span to hell. What's with that, anyway? Wasn't Al supposed to the one who got easily distracted and shit? Goddammit, he's doing it again. What he wanted to say was… Ugh, what the hell did he want to say?
He's trying to distract himself from the fact that Betsy took his immeasurable hatred for the crappy World of Light (paradise my ass, Italy) pretty… well, for the most part. There were some shouts here and there (and not just from him, dammit), but he didn't think he did anything to further sour Betsy's opinion of him, so there's that.
Dare he say it, they're actually… sort… kind of… getting along in way?
"So, what's the whole deal with that Fix-it Felix or Brexit or whatever?" Allen thought to ask, not caring that he sounded a little nonchalant. "Is that limey bastard gonna hightail it outta the E fucking U or not?"
Putting his indescribable anger and murderous hatred for his own world's England (parentkillerparentkillerparentkillerDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEWHYWON'TYOUJUSTFUCKING-), Allen also had his beef with the Light World England. Sure, he's nowhere near as bad as his goddamn counterpart, but damn, was he obnoxious. It was so bad that Allen gave even less of a fuck about that asshole than the other Lightners
On the bright side, Allen won't feel any remorse if said asshole vanished from existence when he finally got his fucking hands on that cupcake bastard. And Alfred's life would be made a little bit easier to deal with.
One day…
"You tell me. That bushy-eyed hypocrite was supposed to have left two years ago." Betsy rolled her eyes and crossed her arms on the trouble. "But there's been delay after delay after delay, so much that I don't think that he's gonna be leaving anytime soon."
Allen sneered as he took out his bowl of chili from the microwave. Good stuff. He grabbed a big spoon and started digging in, "You got that right, Betsy. If you ask me, that rat's all hat and no cattle. Which is damn embarrassing 'cause I hear he actually had a lotta cattle back in the day."
He put in a spoonful of fucking delicious chili into his mouth. Ah, chili. Wow, that's spicy. And this wasn't just any normal chili recipe, this was his All-American chili recipe. It even has Flavio's seal of approval, and as annoying as the guy, he sure could cook. And this chili's one of the few foods with meat that Allen's willing to eat!
Unsurprisingly, it took Betsy a few seconds to catch his drift. "Oh, I agree. It's quite sad, isn't it? You know… how the mighty have fallen and all. I mean, it's not like I'm fond of a lot of them, and many nations of the EU have been treating me shoddily, but it's hard not to feel a little bad for England and the others…"
Allen shrugged and gleefully took in a big spoonful of chili, licking his lips. "Not for me, Betsy. I don't give a damn what happens to them. They've brought that mess upon themselves."
"Oh, you've made that painfully clear. Still, even though they and their people should've known better, it doesn't mean I enjoy seeing them suffer." The Hungarian lady sighed sadly. "I mean, at first it can feel kind of satisfying seeing those hypocrites keep going downhill, but it doesn't feel right enjoying it. I don't like seeing all those innocent people get killed in terrorist attacks or all those poor girls getting raped with the police hardly doing anything about it. It's twisted, and it won't make you any better than them."
It won't make you any better them.
Now didn't that sound familiar? America smiled wryly. Well, what do you know? Of fucking course she'd say the same thing Erszi once told him. What a coincidence. Maybe those two were alike after all…
"I'm not saying I feel bad for the humans screwing over, I just hate that many of them are so blind to the truth." Allen clarified. Who did she think he was? Saudi or Bahrain? I mean, they rock, but… "I'm an awesome jerk, not a monster. Still, they're jerks. They need some kind of comeuppance."
"I guess…" Betsy muttered, then her eyes trailed over to the bowl of chili Allen's devouring. "Is that… chili you're eating?"
"What? I'm hungry. And I love spicy stuff, it helps with the stress." Allen huffed before offering the bowl to her. "You want some too?"
Betsy stared at the bowl, pensive, before humming, "Well, I am a little hungry…"
"Cool. The stove's over there." Allen gestured before shrugging with a lazy smirk. "Try not to burn down the kitchen, will ya?"
Of course, Betsy gave him the death glare again, but that was nothing compared to the look on her face when Allen burst out laughing. God, and here he thought she could take a joke. Oh, she's a little too easy to provoke.
"Ha! I'm just kidding, Betsy. There's more in the fridge." Allen grinned before eating another spoonful of chili. "You're free to grab one, just not all of 'em."
Betsy smiled exasperatedly, you know, one of those twitching smiles Flavio often gave Allen whenever the redhead kept refusing to go fucking shopping with him. "Thank you."
Before Allen knew it, they were talking shit about the EU over some good chili. After a bit more pondering and awkward sielence, he did exactly what Flavio suggested. Vent out their frustrations. Let out all their hatred for the crappy politics of the World of Light. Yeah, starting a conversation with a chick who looked and acted everything and nothing like a certain sickeningly-sweet woman he knew wasn't his strong suit… but he managed.
"Anyway, going back to the whole EU thing," Allen waved his spoon around. "What do you guys do when you and the other nations get together for an EU meeting? I mean, I know what the damn human politicians do. They lie and argue, that's all they ever do in these kinds of things. So what do you guys do? The same thing but worse?"
"Well, it…" Betsy trailed off and then shrieked, dropping her spoon to cover her mouth. "Oh, sweet Magyar's hair, this is hot!"
"Hey, at least you didn't run out screaming like Erszi did." Allen cracked a smirk at the memory of that incident. No wondered Erszi's got sensitive taste buds. She's got sugar, everything nice, but no spice. "Now, come on, give me the details."
Betsy coughed and hastily drank some water. Then when she was finished, she glared at him while Allen kept smirking. "Does my well-being matter that little to you?"
"Nah, it's not that. I'm just amazed that that's enough to make you freak out." Allen remarked nonchalantly before he more of his chili. "Didn't a version of paprika come from you? I thought you could handle hot stuff."
Hungary huffed before coughing some more, and she gulped down some more water. "Just because it came from me, doesn't mean I can… Oh! Just what did you put in this?!"
"Ghost pepper, but I put a couple of other stuff too."
Betsy's eyes widened in shock, and then she gave him the death glare once again. "Ghost pepper?! Well, that explains everything! No wonder Erszi ran out screaming. Are you insane, Allen? Aren't ghost peppers hot enough to bring a grown man to his knees?!"
"So? Humans are weak and don't have our endurance." Allen reminded her, and he laughed as he sat back in his chair. "Jeez, and here I thought you were tough."
"Do you want to hear about the European Union or not?"
"Yeah, yeah, okay, I'm sorry." Allen raised his hands in surrender. "So, what it's like in EU meetings? What do you guys fight over?
"Well, it depends on whatever the others angry at the time." Betsy explained, her eyes looking a little red and puffy from the chili. "They'll either hurl insults at England for the whole Brexit thing, rightfully blame Germany and prime minister for this whole mess with the Muslims, get mad at me, Poland and the others for protecting our countries, or just be a World Meeting except only the EU members are there."
Allen snorted in derision. "That's pretty damn stupid."
"You're telling me," Betsy rolled her eyes, stabbing her chili with her spoon. "And let me tell you, these meetings are getting slowly worse with each year passing. I can't say I blame the others. Well, I can, since they're the ones who keep refusing to see that they're wrong, but I feel bad for them. England's dealing with Brexit, and London's getting drearier and drearier. France is dealing with his protests and even he's sick of his boss. Sweden is practically fucked…"
"Yeah, I can't believe I'm saying this, but poor Swedes." Allen grimaced. Shit, was the chili messing with his head? "If there's anyone I really genuinely feel bad for, it's Lightner Sweden. He used be tough, badass Viking, dammit! And look at him now, full of doormats and snowflakes. Whatever happened to the old Sweden?"
Especially when this Sweden actually sounded better than this world's Sweden…
"Oh, yes, I completely agree. Unlike the others, Sweden does see that this whole immigrant thing was a mistake, but they always give him a hard time every time he brings it up." He heard Betsy's voice say while he was distracted with his own thoughts. "He's a good man. He's just helpless. He can't do anything with his current government. His people are starting to see reason too now that they're dealing with all the consequences…"
Sweden…
Allen began growling. He didn't notice that Betsy could perfectly hear him, or that he was beginning to tremble in barely-restrained rage. That damn Viking… Why did… Why couldn't he just… Why… Why…?
"Uh… Allen?"
"Yeah, lady?"
"Are you… all right?"
"Just dandy. Why do you ask?"
"Because you look like you're ready to fly into a fit of murderous rage. Also, you broke your spoon."
He looked at his hand and saw that, yeah, he broke the big steel spoon in two. "…Oh."
Allen quickly got a replacement spoon and kept his fingers crossed that Flavio won't scold him for destroying utensils again. He made sure to make it clear to Betsy that he didn't want to discuss what's pissed him off so much. Luckily, Betsy understood and didn't press it. He would've thanked her, but he wanted to forget that happened as soon as possible.
Somehow… they did.
He cursed at himself, he even wanted to give himself a big facepalm. Shit, shit, what's he doing thinking of the past in a time like this? Wasn't he supposed to have a good time bashing the EU too? Then why was he thinking about those bastards and how much they piss him off?! They're probably laughing at him, they probably know that they haunt him even when they're so many miles away…
Allen tried not to let his frustration with himself show, and instead tried to pass it off as him being his usual self or just wondering what the hell's taking Al, Flavio and Gil so fucking long in going for the pizza. It better not be cold by the time Flavio finally decided they should show up.
He tried to take his mind off all that crap by throwing shit at the EU.
"Who did those jackasses think they are, thinking they know better about how to handle immigrants than Al?" Allen snarled as he wolfed down the last of his chili. "I mean, if he doesn't have any right to boss them around, then they don't have any right to boss him around either. Al's got no intention of turning into a mess like them."
"Hypocrisy is the one of the defining traits of the EU. What did you expect?" Hungary said bitterly.
"What do I expect? At this point: nothing. Every time I think that they can't go any lower, your world keeps surprising me. I swear, their capital cities could be sieged by bombs, gang-rapes with gajillions of men in ISIS uniforms and women covered in blankets yelling 'Admiral Ackbar!' or whatever, and they still won't admit that they're wrong."
"You got that right…" Betsy. muttered, then suddenly she started to giggle. Why?
"What's with you?" Allen asked with a scowl.
Betsy stopped fucking giggling to give him one of those dazzling smiles that looked way too similar to Erszi's for Allen's comfort. "Heh, I'm sorry. It's just… it's a little hard to believe this is happening, no?"
Allen shrugged, and he tried to scrape whatever chili he had left off the bowl. "Yeah, the whole there's another world thing is pretty surreal. We get it."
"Well, yes, but that's not the only thing." Betsy smiled mischievously and nudged Allen on the shoulder. "We're sort of getting along."
Allen felt his face burn red, and looked away from Betsy's damn smile (why did she have to look so much like her?), grumbling "Guess you could say that."
"Oh, don't try to deny it, Allen." There was that damn laugh again. "Yes, we may not agree on a lot of things. You may think people I genuinely admire are mediocre or just a little less scummy than the other nations, but we do agree on some things. You hate the EU for just about the same reasons as I do."
"That doesn't make us friends, you know…" Allen said stubbornly.
"Yet we're bonding over it." Betsy's smile only seemed to grow wider. "You're even behaving less like a jerk to me."
"Yeah right," Allen scoffed, despite knowing that she's- "You only think I'm acting nicer 'cause you're not the one I'm throwing shit at."
"That's not it, Allen. You really have been on better behavior," Betsy just kept grinning and grinning… God, Allen felt like a little kid. "You've stopped mocking me… for the most part. And I see now that you're a lot more understanding and perceptive than you look. I think I can see now why you and Alfred are such good friends."
Allen felt compelled to act angry, and he scowled "Well, of course we're best friends, dammit!"
"Oh, I know. But come on, admit it. You're starting to like me too."
"Puh-lease. If anything, I'm just starting to find you a little more tolerable be around with." Allen growled, and he gave her the 'I'm watching you' gesture again. "You're still on my watch list, lady. I'm gonna be keeping an eye on you."
But Betsy just laughed merrily, not even taking Allen seriously. Ugh, women. He sank into his seat, grumbling to himself. Why did Allen feel a strange sense of déjà vu?
Oh, yeah. He knew why. This was Erszi's counterpart he was talking about. Figures.
Still, Allen won't deny that she's not… completely wrong. He just won't admit it to her face.
/ / / / /
(Deltarune OST: Thrash Machine)
"Good Gott, it appears you were right, Flavio…" Gillen whispered in surprise, gaping. "It appears they really are getting along somewhat getting along."
"Si… si… si!" Flavio giggled to himself, which slowly became cackles. "I am once again proven to be a complete utter and fabulous GE-"
His moment of glory was then swiftly interrupted by Gillen slapping a hand over the South Italian's mouth. "Shh! do you want Allen to hear you? If he finds out that we've been hiding here for the past ten minutes, then we'll never hear the end of it."
Flavio grabbed Gillen's hand and gently removed it from his mouth, revealing a beaming smile. "But you must admit, I am a genius, no?"
Gillen rolled his eyes, but he smiled nonetheless. "Ja, you are. A fabulous one at that."
Flavio let out a girlish squeal.
"I never doubted you for a minute, Flavs." America said happily, patting the Italian unintentionally a bit too roughly on the back, causing the latter to wince. But America was way too overjoyed to notice. "Your plans never fail, dude. And I knew Allen would come through in the end. He always does."
"Indeed he does. If only he doesn't take so long to do so…" "Shouldn't we stop hiding now? I believe we've taken long enough."
"Now, now, I think we can let those two bond for a little while longer, can't we?" Flavio smiled slyly. "We wouldn't want to interrupt, would we?"
Gillen looked unsure, but he knew he wouldn't be able to convince Flavio, so he sighed. "Oh, fine. Let's just hope Allen won't hear us."
"YOU BASTARDS BETTER COME OUT OF HIDING NOW! IF THE PIZZA GETS COLD, THEN YOU'RE GONNA PAY, LITERALLY AND FIGURATIVELY!"
"…You know, I think he heard us, dudes." America whispered to them.
/ / / / /
(Deltarune OST: School)
Canada was left absolutely baffled when Taiwan abruptly ran off.
He still had no idea what happened, or… w-what could've caused her to react this way. Maple, Canada was just staring at the mirror America kept in the supply closet for some reason when he noticed that Taiwan looked kinda pale and… really shocked for some reason. For a moment, Canada wondered if she found a zit or something, but he just knew that something wasn't right…
Canada decided to call out to her, but for a long while it seemed that she didn't hear him. She just kept staring at the mirror, her expression growing increasingly horrified with each passing moment. He even stopped speaking quietly and raised his voice, but even that didn't work.
(Unbeknownst to him, what to him was 'raising his voice' was actually barely any louder than his usual voice)
Eventually Taiwan did snap out of it, and she looked like she'd seen a ghost. Then she hightailed it out of here before Canada could even try to politely ask her more questions. Just what got into her?
He would've gone after her, but if she was really distressed, it might be best to give her some time to calm down before seeing if she's okay. Maybe Vietnam or Vatican City could help her too. Besides, Canada didn't want to be pelted with insults and be mockingly called 'Bob' every five minutes… Oh, and Taiwan might snap a lot more easily since she's shaken, so…
Um, yeah, Canada's gonna wait it out for a while. He didn't know if his self-esteem could take so many insults and name-calling.
Well, uh, in the meantime… How about he just forget this whole thing happened, give up on the whole trying to find out what the heck America did here, and… check if England and France were available and not killing each other…?
Canada bit his lip and shot a nervous glance at the mirror. He trembled, and then let out a sigh.
But… he really did have to wonder… just what happened to Taiwan? Canada doubted that freak-out was all because of Taiwan forgetting that she was supposed to meet with Vatican City for a Bible study. All she did was stare at the mirror and… that's pretty much it. Canada didn't think it was because of him… or was it really because of him? No, it couldn't be…
He threw another glance at the mirror, and he frowned, shuffling his feet. T-To be honest, he never really liked that mirror. Yeah, it sounded silly, but it's just… sometimes when he's alone with that thing, he always felt a little uneasy and… Oh, he's probably sounded paranoid, didn't he?
Canada would've told Taiwan about this too, but Canada didn't want to endure any more verbal abuse, especially since it's something that he himself wasn't sure of and didn't feel comfortable sharing. R-Really, who knows? For all he knew, maybe the bad feeling he got whenever he gazed into the mirror or even sometimes when he entered the room was just the result of his dumb paranoia! Maybe America's superstition's affecting him, haha…
Well… if he could even more honest, this wouldn't be the first time that something weird happened with this room and/or the involved…
No, really. He's not kidding. Something weird happened to Canada too. When he was first investigating what Alfred could be doing in that supply closet and why (oh, he could just hear Taiwan scolding him now), one day. Canada was suddenly struck with a strong feeling of something's really off. But he tried not to let that scare him off, so he went about his normal day without any problem…
But every now and then, he'd keep getting the weird bad feeling whenever he went into the supply closet. Canada didn't know why he'd get that feeling. Was it really just paranoia? Or was it guilt for trying to spy on America? It could be, it's not like he liked doing this…
Canada didn't want to intrude on America's alone time just to satisfy his own curiosity, despite how many times Taiwan accused him of doing just that. He's just worried about his brother and wanted to see if he's doing well, you know, psychologically.
Come on, try to hear your brother talking to himself in a stinky supply closet and not get at least a little worried.
So, you'd think with the guilt thing in mind that Canada would quit stalling and confront America about what's with him and every now and then going into a closet to either talk to himself or just disappear completely.
But in the end, Canada was indecisive, so he did nothing. He didn't talk to America about the closet but he did keep checking on him. Call him a coward, but Canada was honestly a little scared of America getting angry with him for trying to intrude. His brother was always surprisingly secretive sometimes
Canada sighed as he walked through the empty halls. Wasn't the break almost over? He should have a few minutes, maybe ten, left. How about he spent those minutes trying to relax and carefully think about what he could do and…
"Oh, America!"
…Or he could try to remind people that he existed. That works too.
"America, where the bloody hell have you been?!" England shouted as he stormed towards the exasperated Canada. "You've got a lot of nerve running away from me. And where's Hungary? She still has to answer for what she said!"
Canada dejectedly turned towards him. "…I'm Canada…"
"Who?"
Canada sighed, and he decided to raise his voice (unbeknownst to him, it was barely any louder than his usual voice). "I'm Canada! You know, America's twin brother! You raised me too along with him and I have your darn queen as my head of state."
England blinked, and he remained there staring at Canada, scrutinizing him. Luckily, as if the universe took pity on Canada, it didn't take long for England to finally remember him, and a look of embarrassment flickered across the Brit's face.
"O-Oh, Canada! I sincerely apologize. I…" Didn't remember you existed, but of course England wasn't going to say that, so quickly tried to pretend nothing happened. Well, at least he apologized, Canada thought morosely. "A-Anyway, have you seen Alfred or that Hungarian harlot for that matter? They've completely vanished."
Maple, was everyone looking for them? Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration. So far including England here there have only been two nations who were looking for America and Hungary as far as Canada knew. But why did he get the feeling that there's gonna be a manhunt for them soon?
Anyway, Hungarian harlot?! That's definitely not nice, or gentlemanly for that matter!
"I-Isn't calling Hungary a little too harsh?" Canada asked anxiously, wondering if England was in his more unstable moods right now. "I mean, I know you're mad at her, but-"
"Rubbish. She deserves some flak after all the trouble she's caused us." England waved off Canada's concerns and glanced around suspiciously. "Now, have you seen her and America or not, Matthew? The break's almost over and I want to at least give them a stern-talking to for a few minutes."
For what to be the thousandth time today, Canada sighed. "No, I haven't seen them. I don't know where they could be either."
He obviously wasn't going to mention the whole supply closet thing to England. Doing so would deprive Alfred of his private place. The main reason why Canada decided to share the story to Taiwan was because he genuinely felt bad for her, and he thought the two of them hanging out together could help cheer both of them up.
And Canada might be still a little bitter about England not recognizing him, and calling Hungary a harlot was kind of uncalled for.
England made an ugly scowl "Oh, blast it. We're never going to find them at this rate. I'll just have to confront them after the meeting's over."
"Yeah, you go do that," Canada said absentmindedly, not that England was listening.
Just where was America?
/ / / / /
(Deltarune OST: Quiet Autumn)
You know, it occurred to Taiwan mid-way to her speeding through the halls, away from the closest, away from… from that, that she was just running around aimlessly. She didn't have a destination nor did she have any idea where should she go.
Well, guess what? She didn't really care at the moment.
She was scared out of her wits, confused beyond belief, and possibly worst of all, she had no idea whether or not she was hallucinating. Taiwan's still dealing with the shock of it all, and she didn't know what to do. Who could she confide in about this who won't immediately laugh off her worries, think she's going insane or assure her that she was just seeing things?
Taiwan bit her lip. Was she just seeing things? There's no way she had anything that'll make her hallucinate. She felt just fine (you know, physically). And it looked real, too real…
She still couldn't get the image of her, whoever that was who looked just like Taiwan, struggling in that brutish Canada's grip. It was burned in her mind. The black-haired, fancily-dressed Taiwan's terrified expression and her mouth opening to let out a scream that the real Taiwan couldn't hear, before finally getting decapitated.
Who would believe her? Well, Cambodia came to mind. That guy's always been superstitious, even more so than Thailand. Yeah, Thailand's super nice and never made fun of her. Maybe Taiwan could talk to him and ask for his advice. He'd be able to help… maybe.
Now she seriously considering finding Vatican City and ask her if she could join her over a Bible study or a prayer session after all. True, while Vatican City could be a little preachy (even when she wasn't preaching) sometimes whenever she got too into the 'Holy Spirit', the activities could be a little enlightening sometimes… maybe the holiness will scare whatever demon that's possessing the mirror and not give Taiwan any nightmares…
That, or Taiwan could borrow Vatican City's holy water spray.
She smiled as she actually started to like the idea… until Taiwan realized something. Wait, what would America think if he saw that there's holy water all over his precious private supply closet? Sure, it was all dirty and awful-smelling, but she didn't want to risk ruining it…
And speaking of America, this brought up another question. Did… Did he know that there might be something off about the mirror he kept in the closet?
No, America wouldn't do something to the mirror that would terrify Taiwan. He wouldn't do that to her…
Well, Taiwan didn't know if she really did saw what she thought she saw and… Should she tell him about the mirror or…?
Taiwan sighed. Maybe she should just go to Thailand and spare herself the headache. She could think about what else she could do after she's had some nice tea and reassurances that she's not going crazy.
Oh, America. Where on Earth could you be?
/ / / / /
(Pokemon Pearl & Diamond: Jubilife City)
On the trip to Argentina's apartment, Cuba was of course the one driving while the other nation instructed him on where to go. Yeah, it might sound that he's being a jerk by not trusting his buddy, but Argentina himself was scared to drive a car unless he had the ovenbird taped to his body.
There's never been a time when Argentina's lost in while driving, but frankly, neither of them wanted to find out how it'd be like.
About fifteen-twenty minutes of Cuba moping over the fact that he's gonna have to put up with another intervention again, Argentina engaging in baby-talk with his ovenbird, and driving later they finally arrived at Argentina's new place.
And when they did, Cuba was pretty impressed. Just like his buddy said, the house looked pretty nice and new from the outside, nothing like the old run-down place Argentina owned previously. Huh, looks like Cuba won't have to worry about finding cockroaches scurrying beneath his shoes, walking straight into cobwebs, accidentally knocking down a door, or having the floorboards caving in anymore…
Yeah, Cuba was over the moon over Argentina finally getting a new place.
"I had been thinking of getting a new house for a few months now, but it was hard letting go of the old place, especially with all the memories I made there…" Argentina had said somberly, head bowed lower than usual. "But it was also those memories that encouraged me to move on and let go so that I could live in a better place and live happier."
Cuba smiled sadly and clasped his friend's shoulder. "Ay, don't be all sad, Santi. You had the strength to make the right choice, and you did! And that's what matters. We couldn't be happier for you, amigo."
"Si. I… I see now that it was for the best. I needed to treat myself better. Just because my mind is broken, doesn't mean I believe I'm less than a person. Al told me that, helped a lot with my decision," Argentina said fondly, and Cuba beamed. That's the boss, alright. "I think it'd be good for my mind. I certainly do feel more at ease now…"
Argentina was never a lavish or luxurious kind of country, it's not in the guy's nature. He doesn't like being flashy and stylish like Romano (and Romano had his valid criticisms of Tina's fashion style and hair. Cuba didn't think he could ever imagine Argentina being a metrosexual hipster like that guy. It'd be like trying to imagine himself not being loyal to the boss and being fat from eating too much ice cream…
Cuba snorted and nearly brayed with laughter. Yeah, like that's possible.
No, Argentina's a much simpler and modest man… although he could wash his hair and get some new clothes every now and then. Sure, it might drive attention away from the face, but man, hopefully with this whole 'taking better care of himself' thing he'll realize that it couldn't be good for his personal hygiene. 'Sides, he smelled like ovenbird… in more ways than one.
They exited the car, with Cuba chuckling over how Argentina was practically beaming under that mop of hair. Then when Argentina excitedly took out his house keys and unlocked the door, Cuba was pleasantly surprised to not be greeted by a dirty room and ovenbird cages.
Cuba gawked as he stared at the surroundings of Argentina's new house in amazement. Wow, Tina wasn't kidding around when he said that he's got himself a cool new place. Sure, it's nothing fancy or too expensive, but it looks really comfy. Good for him, honestly.
Oh, and the couches and all the other furniture! It's not old, filled with rats, dust bunnies and other creepy crawlies! Cuba grinned when he plopped down on a chair… a new, modern, clean, pest-free chair! And it didn't creak or break when he sat down! Everything was clean and habitable! Thank God that Argentina went through the trouble of getting all this. Yeah, it's really overdue but better late than never.
"Okay, we're here at your new house. And I gotta say, the whole place looks pretty neat..." Cuba remarked with a smile, making Argentina blush. "So, now that that's out of the way, what's the big news, Santiago? Someone bothering you again?"
(Final Fantasy VII OST: Anxious Heart)
Argentina slightly shook his head, careful not to expose his face. "No, not really… Then again, that might be one way to describe what happened."
Cuba grew more concerned with this, and he leaned forward. "What happened, Santiago?"
In response, Argentina hunched his shoulders and his head bowed lower than normally, not even allowing Cuba to see his friend's eye. He started playing with his little ovenbird plushy, petting it and lifting it by the wings. It didn't look like he was stalling, that didn't sound Argentina, but it did look like he was wondering how he should explain to Cuba what's going on.
Argentina's not exactly an easy guy to read, maybe that messy mop of hair covering his whole face 'cept for his crazy left eye had something to do it with it. That, and maybe the fact that his mind's not in good shape either. Sure, he's a completely sincere and super-nice guy with the ovenbird (but he's still a little creepy sometimes), Cuba didn't doubt that for a minute, but he had to remember that Argentina's broken.
So this meant that nice or not, sane or crazy, there's really no way to really know what's on Argentina's mind. Even when he had the ovenbird on him, Cuba and the others have noticed some traces of his… erm… craziness.
A broken mind couldn't think the same way as a healthy one did, could it?
Sometimes Cuba wondered what it's like to be in Argentina's condition. He once tried asking him, but no matter how Argentina attempted to explain it, he'd always end up feeling pretty distressed. It must be pretty hard trying to live a normal life with a bird being the only thing stopping you from attacking anything that breathes.
Eventually, Argentina seemed to finally decide on something, and he slowly lifted his head back up, making sure not to expose anything other than one of his eyes and some of the skin around it. Cuba couldn't help but feel a little anxious. Man, he hoped that that the Chupacabra didn't escape into South America again. He didn't want to dress up as a goat and act as the bait again…
Or worse, what if Argentina had found out that Mexico had a plan to drug the boss again. What if that witch wanted to try to make the boss her sex slave again? Oh, Cuba could just die. He didn't want him, the boss nor anyone else to go through that whole adventure again. Cuba didn't want to be bitch-slapped by a crazed boss again.
"A couple of days ago, I've received an alarming report from my security agents." Argentina began gravely, clenching his fists. "They've stated that they've discovered and apprehended a group of North Italian spies in the Tucumán Province. While they are still in the process of being questioned, they claim that they have been sent here recently."
And just like that, all the remaining lightheartedness was sucked out of the area.
The Caribbean stared at Argentina in shock, but the pale man kept looking at him straight in the eye. Even though Cuba couldn't see his past except for the one guy, he just knew that he wasn't joking. Man, that would've been a terrible joke, and that's coming from him. Argentina's not that type of guy anyway, he's too nice for that.
Cuba replayed the words in his mind, processing what Argentina just told him. Spies... Italian spies in Argentina's land... Oh shit.
Suddenly Argentina's urgent call made sense. While something like this concerned the boss just as it did any of them, he was in no mood to deal with politics right now. It'd make sense for Argentina to want to have someone to help him out investigating, but… Agh, the questions! Too many questions! It burns!
Cuba was no clown, despite what a good number of people might think from his usual behavior. When there's something serious going on, he didn't joke around or act rashly, especially when it came to his enemies. He knew how to use his head (most of the time, anyway). America even called even a genius this one time when he was in a really good mood! And right now, what Argentina just told him, it's pretty damn serious.
But spies? Seriously? Yeah, well, spies weren't exactly uncommon for a ragtag group of nations like them with tons of enemies. But spies now of all times? And Italian spies for that matter? So soon after the last World Meeting with the tensions on the rise? Italy couldn't be that cocky...
Was he looking for a way to provoke the boss? Was that it? Ah geez, he needed more information before he could form any conclusion.
"W-W-What?! Italian spies?!" Cuba shrilled, not even caring how high-pitched his voice sounded. "Now? So soon? Why? How? What do they want? What's Italy thinking sending them here after the World Meeting? Is he deliberately trying to provoke us and the boss? 'Cause if he is, then-"
Thankfully, Argentina shushed him before he could really start freaking out. "Max, please, calm down. We need to act rationally in a delicate situation such as this."
Cuba felt his face flush in embarrassment and he sank back into his chair. "Sorry, Santi… But still, spies? Now? So soon? Why? How? What do they want? What's Italy-"
"Maximo, you're repeating your previous words again." Argentina told him gently, and Cuba flushed again. Then the pale man sighed, "But si, these really are Italian spies. Believe me; I was just as alarmed and shocked as you were when I found out."
"Damn right you were. What the hell is Italy doing?!" Cuba wanted to punch something, maybe a certain Italian jackass. That'd be nice. "I know he's already crazy, but Dios mio, has that guy really lost all his marbles after all?"
"Looks like it, if his recent actions and heavier are any indication." Argentina carefully shook his head in dismay. "But Max, seriously, you have to calm down. Take a deep breath. We have to think rationally about this."
"But Santi, what if there are spies in the boss's land too?" Cuba asked him worriedly. "What if there's some spies in my land, or in the other countries of the Alliance too?"
"I've already sent them a message explaining everything, except of course for Allen, but I'm planning on telling him tomorrow." Argentina assured him while hugged his stuffed ovenbird to his chest. "I'm sure they can track down any possible spies easily. And Allen, he needs time to-"
Cuba narrowed his eyes. He didn't like interrupting people, but dammit, he didn't like this. "But this concerns the boss too, Santiago! We can't just lock him out of the loop like this. And you know how pissed off he'll be when he finds out that-"
"…Which is why I've alerted the Department of Homeland Security, the FBI, CIA, among others of the possible threat," Argentina told him calmly. "Along with making them promise that they won't tell Allen of what happened until tomorrow unless something grave happens. It's only one day, Max. I don't like keeping this a secret from Allen either, but you know he needs rest. But the humans will work on it in the meantime. Does that make you feel more reassured?"
Actually, yeah, that did make him feel less worried. Cuba frowned as Argentina lowered his head again. Oh, he should've known that Argentina wouldn't keep something like this a secret for no good reason, and the sweet guy wouldn't just sit around and risk letting the secret jeopardize the boss's safety.
"Si, that does make things better. " "I'm… I'm sorry, Santiago. I didn't mean to snap at you. I should've known that you'd be better than… Man, I feel so stupid…"
Argentina's head snapped back up, alarm in his visible eye. "No, don't say that. I'm not upset or anything. You have a right to be at least a little angry at me for keeping this from Al. But everything's fine, Max. I'm sure everything will be alright."
Cuba reluctantly nodded, "Yeah… hopefully…"
"So... why did you tell me to come over here then? You could've easily told me all this over the phone." Cuba asked curiously, and to light up the mood a little, he grinned and cracked his knuckles. "What, you need some help beating the truth outta some Italian spies or something?"
"Actually, si, I would. I called you because… Well, I would really appreciate it if you helped out on the investigation." Argentina asked shyly, absentmindedly playing with his ovenbird plush again. "I would like someone to help me, give me advice. I… I don't really trust myself to handle these types of situations…"
Sensing the self-deprecation in Argentina's tone, Cuba wasn't having any of it. "Hey, hey, don't feel bad for asking for help. Ain't nothing wrong with being a nice guy and being careful. I'll totally help you out!"
Argentina looked at him hopefully. "You will?"
Cuba flashed another grin. "Of course! So, what do we know so far about these guys?"
"I told you, they are still in the process of being questioned. They haven't cracked enough to tell us why they're here." Argentina reminded him grimly. "So it'll be a while before we get any more information."
"Of course they haven't," Cuba grumbled. Damn North Italians. Why did they have to be so scared of that bastard that they won't help the people who could get rid of him? "Are they tough? If they are, then how tough?"
"Well, they are quite stubborn from what I was told." Then Argentina's tone became sorrowful again, and the brown-haired man tensed. "I… I'll admit that one of my people suggested that I go berserk on the North Italians to possibly terrify them into confessing all their secrets, but…"
Cuba's eyes widened. "What? They did? Those pendejos have got some nerve! Don't they know that-"
"Si, I know. My insanity is not a weapon, nor should it be used as one." Argentina nodded in agreement, sounding pained. "I… I'd never do… not unless there wasn't any other choice. B-Besides, I'd likely kill them before they'd even get a chance to surrender. And he was quickly shot down by other humans present."
"Good." Cuba sighed in relief. Humans. Sometimes they really don't know what they're messing with. "So, you want to head over to the place now?"
"Well, there's no telling what North Italy could be planning. For all we know, it's something very dire, and it probably is considering his recent behavior. So I would say 'si', if you don't have an issue with it."
"No problem here, Santi. Let's crack some Italians." Cuba cracked his knuckles again, and he smiled at Argentina "Don't worry, Santi. Once they feel the wrath El Máximo, they'll be begging for mercy!
"Oh, I don't doubt that…" Argentina said, to Cuba's delight, until he heard what the guy said next. "…especially when you'll start bursting into song and dance."
"Hey, what's wrong with my angelic voice and sick dance moves?!"
"I'm sorry, but they leave a lot to be desired."
Phew! Now that the whole Allen and Hungary thing is over and done with, I can finally move on to other stuff and I can further progress the plot. Oh, and there'll be more POVs next chapter, mostly to introduce more 2Ps as well as plot points. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review if you have a minute.