Obsession

A Hetalia story.

Chapter Four: Pronunciation

"They sound really nice…" The officer feels the atmosphere darken at his words. He decides it would probably be in his best interest if he stopped interrupting the strange man, but something just draws the words from his lips.

"Yes… they were…" Toris stares at the limp hands in his lap, like he expects them to jump up and begin dancing. "But nothing ever stays for me…"

Unable to quench the thought, the cop lets one of his eyebrows raise. "What do you mean?"

The strange man slumps until his head rests on the back of the chair, smearing mud across the linoleum floor with a squeak. "He made all the good things in my life turn sour…"

He feels a chill enter his body; the way he speaks is so unusual, and very creepy, as if he is saying his words to a doll. He half expects for the strange man's next action to be to jump scare him, as if this is just a scene from one of his son's scary movies.

A dead chuckle escapes Toris. "The messages… those weren't the beginning though."

Leaning forward, the cop nudges his writing pad across the table. "Can you write down all he did to you?" It is protocol after all. The rookie had forgotten to turn on the surveillance cameras.

"He stole everything from me… " Toris keeps his head at a horizontal angle, his eyes boring into the ceiling as if he is begging for it to fall. "What else is there to write down."

"Then tell me more." The cop urges softly, pulling the writing pad back so he could take more notes himself. This is a very, very odd case indeed. He jots down the name Ivan Braginsky, only to look up and find the strange man staring at him. No. Not at him. Through him.

"Alfred arrived at seven like he said he would…"

000

And only Toris and Raivis were excited about it. Toris could feel the hostility radiating off of Eduard when he invited Alfred into their home. The manager couldn't understand why he locked himself in his room the moment his shift was over, but the reason is becoming more apparent when all his younger brother would do is glare at their guest.

"So do you score a whole bunch!" Little Raivis eagerly engages the hockey player in conversation, causing the American to laugh.

"Of course!" Demonstrating a smooth hit of his imaginary stick, Alfred winks at him. "I'm practically their best player. Isn't that right Toris!"

The manager chuckles quietly. "Well, the statistics would say otherwise."

"What!"

Both Raivis and Toris start to crack up when the American looks seriously wounded by this information, only to find it die in their throats when Eduard everts his glare to him. Toris is still lost to why his brother is being so hostile.

"I hope you're joking!" Alfred grabs the Lithuanian's arm and gives it a hard shake to disengage his thoughts.

Toris gives him a sheepish smile. "It's hard to compare when you play different positions."

"At least tell me I'm more awesome than Mathias!"

"He's the goaltender!"

Alfred pouts at him. "So!"

"There's no way to compare—" Eduard clears his throat, effectively ending the conversation. Alfred's eyes flicker to him, then back to Toris questionably, but the manager has no answers.

"Let's just get this over with."

There is only one other time Toris has heard his brother speak in such a tone, and that was the day he told their father they would no longer visit him in prison. It is cold, and heartless, barren of anything that resembled the personality of Eduard. Was something going on at work? The Lithuanian wishes he could ask.

"Er right…" The hockey player rubs the back of his head, before erupting into a huge grin. "Wouldn't want to keep the others waiting. I bet Mathias is freaking out."

Raivis had been just as amazed as Toris had been when he first saw the American's transportation. Even from the back seat he begged to drive, causing Alfred to chuckle and tell him maybe one day when Toris was not in the car. The manager rolls his eyes at that, but his smile warms his face, only to fade when he glances back in the mirror at Eduard. His face is turned away from them to detour any conversation with the others. Worry coils tightly in Toris's stomach.

While Raivis goes on and on about buying a car like this when he grew up, Alfred glances at the passenger seat, sensing the growing concern in his manager.

"Everything okay dude…?" Toris meets the American's eyes as he gives a half nod to the back seat, indicating who they both are concerned about.

The manager lets out a sigh and slumps a little. "I don't know." He admits, feeling a burning sensation creep up his back. He doesn't need to turn around to know Eduard is now staring at him.

Why do things have to be this way… Toris's body aches. Why did we have to change…

He feels almost selfish now, being excited about a social event. His life is still not on track. His home is still broken; and he was ignorant up until now of the fact. Alfred reaches over and pats his thigh softly, but it doesn't relax the Lithuanian. It almost makes him more regretful.

I should have talked to you from the beginning… Toris's head slants against the window, the cool glass against his forehead causing his body to shiver.

"Is this his house?!" Raivis's outburst causes the manager to slowly raise his head. They are pulling circled drive, where a generously sized condo set overlooking a lake. "It's nearly five times bigger than our house!"

Adorned with gardens and a picturesque fence line, the house looks far too manicured to be Mathias's house. He could still remember the sloppy way he had draped across the bar for more alcohol. Alfred must have gotten the address wrong.

"Mathias likes to go big." Alfred grins at the younger brother, jingling the keys to his car in his hands. "Wait till you see his theater room."

"What?!"

Laughing, Alfred ducks his head to get out of the car, letting the family of three follow before he locks the vehicle with a click. A skeleton of a smile finds Toris's lips, and he has to remind himself that this would be a fun occasion, even if Eduard didn't want to participate. He follows behind the hockey player, letting him knock on the door. They didn't have to wait more than five seconds before they were ushered in the door.

"Hey Alfred!" Mathias calls, initiating a handshake with his friend before saluting to him with a laugh. "And Toris too!" For Toris, he gives him a firm slap on the back, making his whole frame shutter. These hockey players are too strong for their own good. "These your brothers Toris?"

The manager feels a small beam of pride as he lays a hand on Raivis's shoulder, who is staring up at Mathias like he is some magical hockey God. "This is Raivis." He tries to touch Eduard's shoulder, but when the glare is shot his way, he awkwardly lowers his hand. "And this is Eduard."

"Nice to meet ya! You guys are the last ones and I didn't want the party to start without you so hurry up and get to the basement!"

"Gotcha dude!" Alfred smiles, before guiding the brothers down a hall. One thing Toris had anticipated is that the decorations are strictly Mathias approved. No one was brought in to make it look nice, or fancy. It is just made to accommodate Mathias, and Mathias alone.

Opening a door at the end, Alfred gives an exasperated bow to Toris. "Managers first."

Laughing softly, Toris descends the staircase, feeling Raivis eagerly at his heels. At the bottom, they are greeted with a wide open room despite being the basement, with a huge flat screen TV and various gaming systems stacked on top of one another. Copious amounts of food are distributed throughout the room, and although it seems a little outrageous, Toris realizes that they all are hockey players and tend to eat a lot. At their dinner, even Gilbert ordered three more entrees before Alfred protested that they were going to make him broke by the end of the night.

"Toris!" Gilbert comes over, slinging an arm around his shoulder. "And Toris's brothers!" He moves the other arm around Eduard, and doesn't let go when he receives the look.

"Don't choke them to death bruder." Ludwig calls from across the room.

"Ja, ja!" The albino waves him away, as if telling to stay out, before he lets go of the two. "Glad you could make it!"

A certain emotion wells in Toris's chest, and he knows its acceptance. He has to let himself enjoy this night, because he's never been blessed with a chance to make friends like these.

"Don't leave the basement without telling me okay." The manager turns to his youngest brother particularly, whose eyes are fixated elsewhere. "Raivis?"

"She's pretty…" Toris turns his head to pinpoint his gaze, before laughing softly. Vash is sitting in the far corner, next to a blond girl who looks younger than him, but characteristically similar. It must be his younger sister, Lilli. Toris had met her once, when she stumbled into his room flustered and apologized for bugging him.

"Go talk to her then."

Raivis doesn't need much encouraging after that, as he starts to weave his way through the crowd. The manager turns his attention back to Eduard, getting a good look at him for the first time. His hair is limp and stringy; his face pale, and his eyes straining. Did he need new glasses?

"Have fun." Eduard grumbles, before marching off to find a seat somewhere. Toris sighs inaudibly, before turning to mingle with the group. He doesn't get very far before he was snatched away by the Danish goaltender.

"Toris meet Lukas! Lukas meet Toris!" He says when he pulls him to a pale haired man, whose eyes seem endlessly deep. He's obviously annoyed with Mathias's antics.

"I've heard a lot of you." Toris shakes his hand, causing Lukas to roll his eyes.

"Probably because Mathias doesn't know how to shut up." The Norwegian remarks, staring firmly at the goaltender.

Mathias pouts. "You're so cruel Lukasssss!"

The Norwegian player raises his fingers and plugs his ears, causing Mathias to whine louder, but it goes unheard. A sudden shadow falls on Toris's back, and for a second his heart dies in his chest, his mind instantly latching onto the name Ivan Braginsky. Did Mathias invite him?

Slowly, his fingers frigid with his sudden nervousness, he turns to meet the producer, only to let out a relieved exhale. It is the Dutch player. His trademark vertically spiked hair gives him away instantly. What is his name again? Lars.

"Hello." Toris greets, and the player nods his head.

"You are Toris?" His Dutch accent is very heavy, and when Toris breathes through his nose all he smells is smoke.

"Yes." Nodding his head again, he extends a hand to Toris, who takes it.

"I'd like to thank you." The manager almost doesn't catch his words until the very end, when Alfred comes to join him. He looks up at the tall man, confused.

"Thank me?"

"Dude, you're statistics got him in!" Alfred says, playfully punching his arm. "He's officially a Rebel!"

"Really?" Lars smiles softly, to confirm that what the American said is true. "That's wonderful!"

He has helped someone, and he didn't even realize it! He never thought that he could affect people's lives as a manager, but now when he considers it, he can. Something about that makes him feel warm and alive.

This is so great… Toris sighs happily, but a knaw of contradiction slips through the haze. It would be better if I knew what was wrong with Eduard though…

A movement catches his eyes, and fearing the worse, he tries to follow it. Stepping around Berwald and his conversation with Lukas, the manager makes his way to the far side of the room, where a very enthusiastic blond is engaged in conversation. Toris gulps. His blond hair frames his head all the way to his chin; his soft face highlight the very striking gaze he possess with jaded green eyes. All he would need is a halo and a pair of wings, and Toris couldn't help himself but stare. Feeling something off, the blond turns to him, and seeing him, ends the conversation with a wave, and approaches the Lithuanian.

He's beautiful… Toris' cheeks warm at the very thought. He just met the man! But the sly way his lips form a knowing smirk, the sparkle in his eyes, only enrapture the brunette more.

"So you're the famous Toris Laurinaitis." He says, and Toris nearly forgets how to listen.

"Y…yeah…"

Twisting a lock of hair between his fingers, he looks the manager up and down, as if he is inspecting him. Finding something particularly satisfying, he lets his smirk dissolve into a smile.

"I'm Feliks."

Toris could understand why he is a cheerleader. He has the perfect features for it, the grace and the elegance associated with the mastery of back flips and tumbles that probably would have snapped Toris's legs in half if he tried.

"N..nice to meet you… Feliks…" A shiver runs up his spine when the name rolls off his tongue. It feels so right. There is something about this man, the way he holds himself with such self confidence that attracts Toris like a magnet.

Poking his chest with a finger, Toris is sure he is going to have a heart attack. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to stare?"

Briefly, a nerve is struck, but Toris recovered. No, in fact, this mother did not teach him that. She didn't live long enough to teach him much of anything.

"No… she didn't."

Feliks lips curl into the most perfect smile, before he brushes past Toris with a wink. "Maybe you should learn sometimes." He slinks into the crowd.

The manager could feel his flushed cheeks, his hands that seem wet but aren't, and the furious pumping of his heart, and loves it. It feels so good, so real. He turns to try to catch Feliks again, but he crashes into someone's back instead. Sputtering out an apology, he takes a step back, thinking it is Berwald, only to realize when they turn it is most defiantly not.

His close cropped pale hair falls across his childishly round cheeks. His sturdy frame and wide shoulders make him menacing, but it is dulled down by the loose scarf threaded around a neck, as if he is a child…in a grown man's body…

Toris is backing up against the wall when he sees a smile split his face.

"Hello Toris Laurinaitis." He could almost imagine hearing that voice in the text messages, the persistent hellos and the I see you Toris Laurinaitis.

"I…Ivan…"

The man tsks the manager, as if he should know better. "Ee-van, Tori. It's all about the pronunciation."

Toris cringes when Raivis's nickname for him is used by this man. He can vaguely remember him on that bright summer day, leading him into a coffee shop and leaving money to him. It couldn't be the same man; but the phone number had been the same, and no matter how bad he wants to tell himself it could be a mistake, it isn't. This is the man that spared him and his brother from a terrible life. It is also the man that is beginning to creep Toris out.

"What's wrong Tori?" Ivan cocks his head. "Aren't you happy to see me.?"

Toris slides his hand against the wall, then his body, slowly, trying to escape without him realizing. "I didn't… expect you…"

Even in a room full of people, no one seems to notice that the ex-hockey player is amongst their ranks. Something about the man terrifies him so much, that he couldn't raise his voice to cry for Alfred.

"You always go without me. It's so upsetting. Why won't you accept my offer for a date?"

Toris raises an eyebrow. Is this really what this is all about? Just because he wouldn't say yes to some creep that was texting him late at night?

"I've… I've been busy."

The manager stops dead in his tracks when he sees his childish face darken. His heart sinks to his feet, and turns them stone.

"But you have time to go out to dinner and go to sleep overs." Ivan spats, his fists clenched in his pockets. "And not spend time with the man that saved you."

Toris feels like a trapped animal in a cage full of his fellow species. Is Ivan just a figment of his imagination? No one else is seeing him! Is it possible that Mathias had invited him? No! Not after their conversation at the restaurant. Ivan starts to close the distance between him and Toris, causing the Lithuanian to squeak.

"I… I can repay you now." Toris shrinks, but Ivan plants his hands on either side of him.

"I don't want money… I want Tori…~!" He is too close—way to close for Toris to handle. It is too much, he has to, he can't stop himself, he is so scared—

"Alfred!"

Ivan's hands snatch his neck the moment his scream disrupts the party, crushing the air from reaching his lungs. Gasping, Toris grapples to undo his hold, but even after being dropped as a hockey player, he is still strong, if not stronger, as one. The world bobbles and becomes a string of black circles, and Toris is sure he is done for if it hadn't been the sudden crash of Mathias into Ivan that sends them all to the ground.

"Someone call the cops!" Mathias shouts, keeping Ivan pinned, but the Russian wouldn't stay down. Grabbing the arm that had him around the throat, Ivan twists hard before bucking him off, smiling when he smacks into the wall. Toris scrabbles to crawl to the corner, but the ex-player doesn't peruse him. Instead, he takes off, out maneuvering and out battling any person that stood in his way.

Alfred rushes over to his side.

"Toris are you okay!?"

Toris's legs are too wobbly to stand, and he doesn't try. He just numbly feels his neck, the skin bruising beneath his fingers. "Y…Yes…?"

His eyes go to Mathias, who is limp against the ground, his arm bent at place that should be solid. Toris feels his eyes grow wide.

"M..Mathias…?"

Alfred follows his gaze. "Mathias! Dude are you okay!" There isn't even a groan. Ivan had knocked the goaltender out.

Lukas steps up. "I got him. You take Toris home."

Hesitantly, the American nods, before helping Toris to his feet, giving him support. Vash even helps out, practically assisting in carrying the Lithuanian to his car. Berwald, a bruise forming at his jaw, makes sure Eduard and Raivis are both safe in the back seat, while Ludwig asks for Toris's address and other details in case the police would like his account.

When Alfred promises he would get the manager home safely and takes off down the dark road, Eduard's eyes lazily follow the shadows of the night before he speaks.

"Just what did you do now…?"

Toris didn't know.

Nothing is a coincidence anymore.

-Soul Spirit-