A/N: Chapter 3's here. Shortest one yet. D: My estimate dictates that chapter 4 will be the last one...Hm. Oh, well; enjoy it despite its shortness!
Arthur gulped, under pressure from the questioning stares of five pairs of eyes. Could he really say this? He didn't ask for their permission when he did it, so how would they react?
Trying his best to push that all aside, the Englishman said as bluntly as he could, "I booked us a flight to Japan."
He surveyed the resulting reactions: Feliciano's airheaded smile was wiped off his face by a new befuddled expression. Ludwig raised an eyebrow. Francis looked shocked as shocked can possibly be. Alfred bit into his burger a little too hard. Yao looked…relieved?
"Y-Yes…I'm sorry I failed to tell you earlier." Arthur fiddled with his tie, hoping he would get positive feedback after the initial shock. "But I already printed the e-tickets, and the flight leaves tomorrow morn. I thought we should go check on Kiku. I called Ivan over too; he said he managed to book a flight today, and he's going to be waiting for us there. I-If it's too sudden, I could—"
"Dude!" Alfred finished chewing, and a wide, toothy grin now swept across his face. "Funny, I was thinking the same thing! I didn't even think they were still sending planes off there after the quake and all! Let's go, man!" The American stood, his chair falling back, as if he were ready to dash to the airport right that instant.
Francis immediately tugged on his bomber jacket, forcing him back on his seat. "Calm down, monsieur! You mustn't be so…unrefined in your declamations!"
"What, I bet you're psyched too, man!" Alfred didn't even try to contain his excitement. "I mean, dude, I was all worried about Kiku, too! You're saying you weren't?"
"E-Eh?" Francis flinched, but quickly regained his extravagant composure. "Of course I'm excited, and of course I was worried! I simply did not approve of your way of expressing it!" He tried to hide it, but his spirits were brought higher by the news as well.
"Ve~! We're going to find Kiku~!" Feliciano sang, and even Ludwig looked contented. Yao said nothing, but it was evident that he was hiding a smile.
Frankly, Arthur was a little surprised. When someone was booked onto a flight to a ravaged country without permission, you wouldn't exactly expect a positive reaction like that. He paused, looking around at the determined smiles of his friends, and let one out himself. It looked like when it came to them, it was friends first. Not many friends were like that, and he felt blessed.
"It looks like we'll be packing up tonight, then!"
/
The group's high spirits were immediately swatted down once they arrived.
"Da." Ivan frowned, following their gazes. "It was like this when I arrived. Kiku…was staying here, da?"
"U…Unfortunately," stammered Ludwig, and he wasn't one to stammer.
They had a hard time getting to the seaside city in the first place. When he booked the flight online, it had taken Arthur a few hours to find one, seeing as to how the country wasn't exactly a profitable one after the tragedy. And once they landed, it took them quite some time to find a route to the resort Kiku said he was staying at before contact was severed. They had asked dozens of locals, took dozens of detours, and encountered dozens of rubble-ridden dead ends. And when they finally got there…
The beach resort was ravaged. Barely any of the beach houses still stood, and those that did were missing the top half…or more. The Japanese who lived nearby were gathering in long lines to receive measly rations from rescuers who looked pretty hungry themselves. The rest of the rescue team was dragging out dead bodies from under the collapsed walls and fallen roofs. Dead bodies. Feliciano looked down nervously, and realized that they stood on a ravaged plank of wood that may have been the large, grand sign to the resort before huge waves tore it down and desperate citizens trampled it.
"Did they…" Francis hesitated. "…Find him?"
"Kiku?" Ivan looked upset, which was something he was not very often. "I asked around. No one heard from him."
"Dude…" Alfred watched the people lining up bow in gratitude one by one and leave with their tiny portions. "Did we really expect someone to 'find him'? Look at this place, man!"
"We shouldn't be losing hope," muttered Yao, but that was a hypocritical statement.
"You said you saw a girl with a dog that looked like Pochi, da?" Russia motioned to what looked like it used to be an observatory before it became a refuge area on a cliff. "I looked into that, too. I found the girl, but she said the doggy ran away last night."
"Where did it go?" queried Arthur, hoping it was a lead.
"She doesn't know."
"Oh. So much for that, man." Alfred took a few steps down the eroded stones leading to the beach, nearly tripping. "What about the beach? D'you look around?"
"I thought, leave the work to the rescuers, da?"
"But what if they're missing something?" Yao was a little hopeful again, telling himself that Kiku was alive, but again, felt like he was lying to himself. "There are so many missing people and so little rescuers!"
Ludwig shrugged. "I suppose we can try. The chance is slim, though…"
"Well, let's go!" Feliciano hopped down the steps, determined to at least attempt a search of their own. "We're going to find him! We will; I know it!"
…Halfway down the steps, the Italian tripped.
Alfred burst into obnoxious laughter immediately after, and the rest followed. Even Ludwig managed to smile. "Aw, man, we get your enthusiasm, alright? Come on, dudes, let's get searching!"
And they dashed down the steps with hollow smiles and fake laughter, helping Feliciano up on the way. They could pretend to be determined; to actually believe that they could find Kiku when the professionals couldn't. A fragile thing to hope on, but there was nothing else. If they let go, one truth would have to be accepted: That Kiku was dead. And no one wanted that.
/
He woke up to the pain: a slow, constant thing. It was everywhere, a cacophony of aches and stings. Cuts, bruises, or something worse…Who knew? There was only pain, and the unrelenting darkness.
For the first few…moments? Hours? Days? He didn't know, but he drifted in and out of consciousness…The ordeal was blurry; his mind was clouded from the hunger. He was awake enough to know that he was under piles and piles of rubble, but he felt too woozy to do anything about it. He could barely move, and he was stuck. He couldn't do anything but wait for rescue.
…And if rescue didn't come…? He didn't want to think about that.
And before slipping back into sleep (if he was ever awake at all), he could have sworn he had heard vehement barking in the distance.