Content warning in this chapter for light violence.
Romano felt his blood turn cold as he looked around at the turnout for the tournament. There were more people here than he was expecting... did he and America even stand a chance at winning? Shit, no one else even looked qualified to restore the Crystal. He was going to be pissed if some random shithead won and kept the damn Crystal to themselves!
With a groan, Romano approached the table where he'd be playing his first match—because yes, dammit, he was going to give this a try! If for no other reason than to pull the odds of getting the Crystal to his favor.
And who should be waiting for him at the board, but America. Fan-fucking-tastic.
"Hey dude! I didn't think you'd actually be playing," America said, smiling.
Romano took his seat. "Well, here I am, bastard. I'm going to kick your ass!" Dammit, Romano didn't want to go against America on the first round! That just defeated the whole point of him competing in the first place!
"Oh yeah? Did you get any practice in since last week?"
"I... Um, wouldn't you like to know, asshat!" And to be honest, Romano tried, he really did! But, fucking hell, chess was boring. Especially because he had been playing against other people of this world instead of America—so, basically, he was hanging out with the most boring, emotionally shallow people possible.
Romano glared down at the board. Looked like he was first. He glanced over the pieces, and started to try planning out some kind of strategy. Even if he wasn't going to win, he'd at least try not to look like a complete fucking loser here!
When he finally made his decision, he looked up to see… America staring at his phone.
"Hey, asshole. The fuck are you doing?"
"Huh? …Oh, I was just waiting for you to finish. You done yet?"
"Don't tell me your phone still works at this point."
"Ah, no, it doesn't! I was just pretending that I was actually doing something interesting while I waited."
Romano answered that with a frown.
"What!? Am I supposed to just stick my thumbs up my ass while I'm waiting?"
"... Bastard. Just go, dammit." Fucking hell, Romano usually got bored with chess, but when he was against America—dammit! He just got overwhelmingly pissed when he went against the stupid burger bastard!
As before, America completed his turn quickly. After another great length of time, probably enough for America to finish pretend-watching a cat video or two, Romano made his next move and smirked. Yes, this time he'd lead with the stronger pieces that stood in the back, so this would go way—
—"Checkmate!" America called. Romano did a double take and raked the board with his eyes.
"What the... What the fuck, America!? How... How did you—that was round two!" Was it really possible to end the game in two turns!?
"Hey, what can I say? You were particularly shitty today!" America smirked, and Romano couldn't help the low growl that escaped his throat.
Dammit, after all this shit, America had damn well better win the whole fucking tournament!
"Hey, everyone sucks the first few times!" America said, seeming to pick up on Romano's mood. "You'll get better if you practice."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Romano replied with a huff. Stupid… asshole. "Anyway, you better win the rest of them!"
"That's the plan, man!"
With that, they parted ways. Presumably, America was going to get ready for his next match, and Romano, in the meantime, searched through the crowds. Whether they'd be joining the tournament or crashing it, the demons were bound to be here, right?
Soon enough, he could hear Lindy's voice, and it wasn't long before he spotted them—sticking out as the only fully-colored people around.
Sadly, they spotted him, too. "Well, look at what we've got here! Lose already?" Lindy asked, sneering.
"No! No I didn't!" ...Wait. "Well… maybe I did! What's it to you?"
"Hee hee, I figured. Loser." Standing behind his sister with his arms crossed, Klein nodded in agreement. "Klein here is going to win the whole thing, you know! Then we'll be considered the true heroes and they'll give us the Crystal."
"Hey, America's still in the running! And… he's pretty good! I think." Not like Romano even knew how to judge a person's chess skills. "Well, he's played against Russia a lot!"
Lindy's sneer morphed into a somewhat confused expression. "...Whatever you say. Loser!"
Klein gave his sister a little tap on the shoulder, made some gestures, and then moved on somewhere else—presumably he was going to his next match. Lindy threw an insult at Romano before going after Klein, and then… Romano followed after Lindy. More than anything else, he did not want to keep his eyes off of them.
"Ugh," Lindy said, as she saw Romano stand next to her. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm… just here, okay!? I hope your brother loses! In like, two turns!"
"Ha! Two turns?! Is it even possible for anyone to lose that fast?"
Romano could almost physically feel the jab, and without meaning to, some strangled grunt of a noise escaped his throat. He pointedly turned away, now facing Klein's current match, which had just started.
...Fucking hell, Romano had no clue how to tell who was winning. He took another peek at Lindy through the corner of his eye… currently she was just acting like a normal spectator. Hm. Was this really where they would attack? It was the only situation where Romano and America and chess would all be involved somehow, at least as far as he could tell. Were the demons waiting to see America before they attacked him? Or maybe… the attack would be a plan B in case they lost?
...Shit. Romano's blood turned cold and he could feel anxiety coming on. What could he do about all this? Well, first, he couldn't start any fights, that was for sure. The last thing he needed to do was get them to immediately want to do… whatever that was in his dream.
He supposed he couldn't just ask about it, either. How would that even go? 'Hey Lindy are you guys planning on summoning some shadow monster from hell to kill America?' 'Oh why yes, as a matter of fact, we are! Hey, since you brought it up, why don't I go ahead and show you now?'
Yeah… no. Lindy seemed like the type to become violent at the drop of a hat.
Anyway, it did seem like Lindy was the only person who controlled the shadows in his dream. Maybe he could lead her away from here?
"Hey, Lindy," he said, and she turned to him. "I, uh, wanted to ask you something."
"Is that so? What?"
…Well, shit. Um. Shit. "I… I, um, I'd have to show you. It's outside!"
"Pff. No thanks, then. I'm going to be here for my brother until the very end! Go, Klein!"
"But, it's… really important!"
"And you think I believe you?" With a snort, Lindy turned back to the game. Even though Romano tried calling out to her again, she just ignored him.
So… well, shit. That was shitty.
Romano continued to stay near the demons, game after game. He tried a few more times to distract Lindy, but she was doing a great job of ignoring him. Dammit.
Finally, it was time for the final match—Klein versus America. Well… at least America made it to the finals.
Romano felt tense just watching the game. He had no idea what was actually going on with it, but every time he heard a piece get moved, it sounded like another little thud that was tolling in certain doom.
His nerves made the game feel like it took hours, but once it was over—America was the winner!—it felt like the whole thing was done in the blink of an eye.
America received some applause as he was declared the champion, and finally the priestess appeared and handed over the Crystal.
Nearby, Romano could hear Lindy growl, and fuck he just knew what was coming next. "Well!" she called out, and all the attention was on her. "Congratulations on winning, you… you awful person. But, we're getting that Crystal no matter what!"
"Wait! Don't—ack!" Romano tried to run over and do something, but just before he could reach Lindy, he felt himself get lifted by the back of his shirt collar. Dammit… not this. A quick glance over the shoulder confirmed that Klein had indeed grabbed him and was now holding him several inches above the floor. No matter how much he flailed and struggled, he couldn't escape Klein's hold. Dammit…
"Hee hee, nice try there. But play time is over now, little buggy. We get what we want." Lindy giggled at Romano and gave him a harsh flick on the forehead before turning to America. "I have to say, you were pretty effective at stopping us for a while… but it's ending here. I'm going to be finally rid of you!"
Dark shadows rose from the ground like steam, and they hissed and crackled as they grew and become more voluminous. After a few moments, they became thick enough that Romano couldn't see below anyone's waist. Up ahead, America tried pushing through the crowds to get to the demons—everyone else was fixated on the shadows, seemingly unable to respond to the imminent danger.
Then, with a flick of Lindy's wrist, the shadows shot forward, and everyone before her was bowled over. There was a loud hiss, and then Romano could see the shadows slowly build upwards, with only America caught in the middle. America started to fight against the dark forces, but it seemed to have no effect at all. Then, the swirling and crackling and hissing mass started to split apart from the top, and it seemed to take on the form of a large mouth, with a long tongue in the middle ensnaring America… and then the jaws widened, and,
Romano could see his dream replaying in his mind, and—
At the last moment, he made a grab for Lindy's long hair and just pulled.
She stumbled, nearly falling over, and lost her focus. The shadows responded to this, and suddenly they started to come apart and move in different directions, as though a perfect formation of soldiers suddenly panicked and scrambled.
America was released and fell, crashing into some chess tables and hitting the ground with a loud thud. The shadows dispersed, behaving now like a gas, and slowly faded away.
Lindy stood with her mouth gaping open, staring at the scene. Then she snapped her mouth shut and turned to give Romano a cold, hard glare. "You…" she said, her shoulders shaking, and Romano's heart pounded. "You ruined it! Do you know what that was!?"
She slammed her fist across Romano's face, and he could feel the blow before he heard it. "Of course you don't!" she continued, and crack—another punch sent his face in the other direction. "You little!"
Klein threw Romano onto the ground, stomach up, and the Italian could see two enraged demons looking down at him.
And then came the beating. Lindy continued shouting curses at him—the exact wording of which Romano couldn't make out anymore—and he felt each sharp blow on his body. First on his stomach, and the wind was knocked out of him, then on the chest with a huge sear of pain—then again on the chest, and again, and then the neck, crushing heels into his arms, sharp pains in his face—
His body became consumed with pain, and then…just blackness, and Romano was out.