Wow, you have no idea how long it took me to write this. My brain had sputtered at some point and kind of became a limp noodle, and I didn't know how to execute a few parts. So, like always, I just ploughed right through it. And finally, I got this done, praying that this chapter doesn't seem like poo. Nevertheless: Yay! Time for a celebration! I just hope that the next chapter won't take as long. Maybe not, since that one's going to be rather short, although I don't know whether or not to make it a Theory or a Law chapter. Well, let's see how that goes then, right?

Special thank-you for all my reviewers: crazeENes, Guest, and Rufuscent! You guys are the reason why I keep going!

Well, I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Axis Powers: Hetalia. It belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz. I merely own the AU plot.

To Create Perfection

"Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere."
—Albert Einstein

"Law 7: Making Miracles, Part 3"

Arthur had tried his best to get all of the questions done, but at some point halfway down the list, Antonio was no longer paying attention. The patient wouldn't respond, only repeating his own questions in hopes for answers. Eventually, Antonio nodded off and didn't say anything at all. A few times, Arthur would clap his hands in front of Antonio's face. Antonio would wake up, smile, say an apology, and then begin to doze once more. Arthur knew when to give up, and he did at the most opportune time: when Antonio didn't wake up even after Arthur clapped and snapped his fingers. So he set aside the papers, taking note of which questions were not asked, and then called the Humane Control facility to help the patient. Some man named Gendo told him to wait around until they got there, so Arthur did. In about only five to ten minutes, a pair of Humane Control workers came in. They had immediately told Arthur that he could leave to attend to other businesses; however, Arthur insisted on staying as he watched the workers check the vitals on little devices. When the intern was sure that Antonio was really just exhausted and wasn't ill or feeling unwell, Arthur finally left.

The blond knew that he was going to be seeing Sadık next. After all, that was what had been planned. Unfortunately, Arthur almost forgot where exactly he would have been meeting the man, so he turned down a hallway to head outside to another building on campus, for Sadık always seemed to be with the children in Safety Room 42. So onwards Arthur went, searching as he tended to do while he was with Francis. That "brilliant" assimilation officer, or whatever society wanted to call the blond fool, never did exploit a technique called "scheduling." He just swung with what seemed convenient and did whatever was closest at hand. It was unfortunate that the terrible habit corrupted Arthur as well.

Luckily, Arthur caught himself, glancing at his watch and stopping in the middle of the hallway. A drop of shame floated through his mind. He couldn't believe that he had actually almost forgotten a prior appointment, following Francis' steps unknowingly. That would have been humiliating. At least, though, he had realised his mistake and turned back on the pre-planned track. He could pretend that nothing had happened, going on his merry way without damaging his own internal reputation. As long as he never did that again, then he could consider the event as merely a fluke.

Without a word, Arthur walked back towards room 60, where he had been to pick up Antonio. Obviously, Roderick and Sadık had planned to switch off there since Antonio would have to return back to his room, but they probably didn't expect Roderick going off to do something else and leaving Arthur all alone. In the end, Arthur was once again alone with nobody to guide him. It would have been easier if Sadık were to meet Arthur at Roderick's office, but complications weren't common enough to anticipate but fortunately uncommon enough for people to regard them as relatively normal.

Sadık was waiting at the door of room 60. He was leaning his back against the wall, his foot propped up against the wall so one knee was bent while the other foot remained on the ground. His arms were folded over his chest, and his eyes wondered. By the time Arthur had approached the large man, Sadık was looking off to the side, a patient frown gracing his face. Immediately, Arthur wondered if he was late. In a panic, he glanced at his watch. The hands read three—good, he wasn't exactly late, but he didn't like the fact that he had gotten by the skin of his teeth.

When Arthur looked up, he realised something was strange. Just on the left of Sadık, away from where the man was looking, the window to room 60 was uncovered. That was the first time Arthur saw the metal shades turned to reveal the interior. He could see the white window, the nightstand, and the furthest edges of the beds. There Lovino sat, back hunched forward. His hands were set on his lap, and his eyes were set right on Arthur. A scowl crossed over his face, but it was just that: A scowl—the downward turn of his mouth. Arthur couldn't read what Lovino was expressing over his countenance. The patient just stared. Then the brown-haired male stood up and walked out of the scope of the window.

"Arthur, where's Roderick?"

The intern ripped his eyes from the window and looked up. A shadow was cast over him—Arthur stumbled back, shocked by the ghostly, blank white of a mask. Sadık had moved from the wall and up to Arthur, and his height towered over the blond. The realisation seeped through his mind, letting Arthur to calm back down and answer with an unwavering voice.

"He had told me that he had other business to attend to."

Sadık's mouth opened just a bit as he nodded. "I see…" He glanced behind him and then turned back to Arthur. A grin crossed over his face, cheekbones pushing the mask up slightly. The large man smacked a hand against Arthur's shoulder. Arthur stumbled, catching himself under the force. "Well, thanks for taking care of things on Roderick's end! I bet he'll really appreciate it!"

Sadık, for a moment, paused, waiting for Arthur to speak. However, Arthur didn't say anything, so Sadık continued, placing the hand to the centre of Arthur's back to guide him back down the hallways. "Well, either way, you sure were busy today, from what I heard. But don't worry—my job is pretty easy. And I got approved for letting you off for the rest of the day afterwards. You deserve it, buddy."

Arthur nodded appreciatively. "Thank you very much." He took a step to the side so then it didn't feel like Sadık was pushing him forward.

The hand dropped, but the grin didn't. Unfortunately, whether the smile reached the eyes or not was questionable; the mask covered little of Sadık's face, but enough that many wouldn't be able to read his expression. Nevertheless, the fact probably didn't matter. Arthur stayed in step with Sadık, albeit a bit behind so he would be able to follow Sadık rather than lead.

"Hey, no need to be all formal with me! We're buddies here."

"Colleagues."

"You kidding me? Buddies!" Sadık laughed, smacking Arthur again but this time not leaving his hand there. "You're with Francis, and everybody who is friends with him is friends with me!"

Arthur raised a large eyebrow. The sound of their footsteps created a strange rhythm of scuffling and clicks. It almost seemed like three feet were walking side-by-side rather than four. "Bonnefoy isn't a friend. He's just my superior."

Sadık scoffed. "Just a superior? You two are practically connected by the hip."

Arthur's green eyes narrowed. "We aren't. Bonnefoy just never leaves me alone."

"Okay, sure, sure, he's a bit more obsessive than most. He just likes to keep a watchful eye—to avoid mistakes, y'know? After watching my own mistakes and seeing everybody else's mistakes, he doesn't want to make the same ones." Sadık held up one finger and waved it at Arthur. "And let me tell you, he's really great with everything. You should see his past interns, Kiku and Feliciano. Kiku was shaky with everything when he first came in, and once Francis was done with him, the guy was able to take on high-level and high-ranking assignments like this—" Sadık snapped "—and received near military-discipline without getting completely crushed by other factors and conflicts. And Feliciano finished his internship in only a year and still has enough skill to be Ludwig's assistant." He laughed then; it was a loud, barking-like sound, but nevertheless a happy, hearty one. "I would love to say he learnt everything from me, but that'll be a lie."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, after he finished his internship with me, he suddenly decided to change from the Humane Control to Roderick's department, so he spent another two years as an intern."

"Do you know why he decided that? He finished his education, so why didn't he stick with it?"

Sadık shrugged, sticking his hands into his pockets. "He told me that he found his 'fate' in something else. He wanted to be a teacher, and he wanted to be the best, even if he'll have to compete with Roderick for the SEP position. As you can tell, he won out; if he hadn't, then you would have been working with Roderick." The man's hand turned slightly, as if he was glancing towards Arthur before looking ahead again. "And, no offense to Roderick, I think Francis fits more as an SEP assimilation officer. In all honesty, I have no idea why the hell he thought that the Humane Control department was right for him. He's better at bringing people up than putting them down."

"'Better at bringing people up than putting them down'…" Arthur repeated, frowning.

"Yeah. He didn't belong in my department—not enough discipline. We're closely connected to the military, and he couldn't even keep up with any of the drills, much less the stoicism related to the job."

The pair of men turned around a corner. The doors turned darker, thicker, and there were no windows. Despite the buzzing artificial light from the ceiling, the corridor was significantly darker than others. The floor was dull—unwaxed—yet the soles of shoes squeaked with every step, accompanying the dull thud and click of heels.

"We tell him to do A, B, and C, and suddenly he—Oh, we're here."

Sadık had stopped. He faced a door on the left. It was metal like the rest except with a tainted grey colour. However, strange marks went up and down the surface, and two visible dents were near the bottom. Four bolts lined the right side of the entry. Although nobody was around except the two men, there were clinks of metal. Clink. Clink. Clink. Then there was a whirr. Arthur, having also stopped at the door, gave a weary glance towards Sadık. The taller man seemed completely fine, despite the ambiance, and he was humming a strange, clicking tune under his breath as he searched his pockets for his ID card.

When he pulled the plastic object out, he continued talking. "Okay, so rundown: We're here to examine RU-76. I need to measure brain waves and activity." His large hand moved surprisingly quickly along the bolts, unlocking them with flicks of his wrist and fingers. "Specifically, I need to see what's different with the way he ticks, especially around normal strangers. So I want you to carry a normal conversation with him." Without looking at the intern, he slid his card into the door and typed in a pin number when the keypad slid out. "Sounds easy, right?"

Arthur nodded.

Lines of light flowed across the door from the keypad, which slid back into the wall. Then a large wheel with spokes appeared. It appeared to be something similar to a lock on a large bank storage seen in the twentieth century—the sight of it made Arthur's insides clench. With a grunt, Sadık forced the wheel to turn, pushing on a spoke downwards.

"Now, be careful when you're in there." Sadık turned his head slightly to look at the blond intern. "RU-76 is rather… sensitive, as you can say. He's well, as you can probably say… psychotic, I guess." He paused, a frown travelling onto his face. "He's a murderer, Arthur, and he's not afraid to kill somebody else."

Arthur's green eyes widened, and his fists clenched tighter, wrinkling the hem of his shirt. Nevertheless, he didn't say a word, allowing Sadık to continue.

"But don't worry." A smile replaced the frown, lighting up the dark face. "I've handled things like this all the time. I got an eye on millions of instruments, and I know the signs of harmful intent by heart. If I see something strange going on, I'll whip out the sedatives and knock him out before you can even scream for help. And I have a 100% record, so you're in no danger whatsoever. I just want you to be careful."

Arthur nodded.

Sadık gave the wheel one last push. What sounded like heavy metal against heavy metal followed, then a click and the whoosh of air pressure being released. A misty white cloud seeped from the edges of the door, blowing cool air into the pair of men's faces. Finally, the door slid open.

The room was empty—empty not in a vacant sense, but empty as in the ambiance. When Arthur entered the room, he had expected fear. The way the door was extensively locked served almost like a warning; none of the doors Arthur had seen had four bolts, identification requirements, and a large wheel releasing pressurised air. In a way, he was expecting blood and gore splattered upon the walls, coating everything in a grotesque pattern of red and creating a sense of claustrophobia and paranoia. But that wasn't the case. In fact, the room was clean—well-lit, white and open. There was plenty of space around the bed, the cabinets, the bathroom stall and the few machines that were plugged into the wall. Anything there was kept to a bare minimum. Seeing a room completely opposite of his expectations, Arthur felt a heavy apathy. And that—apathy rather than the room—scared him the most.

Nevertheless, Arthur knew this scene before. It was rather typical for whenever he needed to take care of "patients." The room was minimalist and immaculate, just like all the other rooms, and at least one person resided within the walls. Usually, the patients were found sitting or lying on their beds. RU-76 was no different. A large man sat on the edge of the well-made bed. He had a hulky form: broad, shoulders, chubby face, round nose, and soft cheeks that stretched down his thick neck disappearing beneath a threadbare scarf. Even the mop of platinum blond hair seemed rather small upon his large head, locks drooping over his eyes like a weathered, deflated bird's next. Both feet were flat against the cold floor, lacking slippers and socks, and both hands rested on his lap. For a moment, Arthur was reminded of Alfred. The man's shoulders were hunched, and his eyes were trained upon a far wall yet saw nothing. Yet, there was a noticeable difference. A large grin stretched over the face, pulling the cheek muscles so they wrinkled around the edges. Eyes hued a bluish-purple under the light were wide, yet the corners curled and thinned with the smile.

Sadık opened his mouth to talk, but the man had reacted first. Without a single glance or movement acknowledging Sadık's and Arthur's presence, the man spoke, his voice tinkling like thick, broken bells and chimes, "I see that you finally brought a new victim. What shall we talk about this time?"

It was only after a brief pause did the man turn to look at the pair. His head turned ever so slowly and then tilted to the side, skewing his smile. Arthur felt like he was watching a broken robot spin. He had to hide a temptation to grab the patient and spin the head for him.

Sadık coughed and cleared his throat. "Uh, well yeah." He glanced at Arthur and quirked a simper. Then he walked across the room, pulling gadgets, wires, and instruments out of his coat pockets. The man's head turned to follow Sadık, yet the eyes and smile stilled seemed to be on Arthur. Sadık didn't notice; his face was trained downwards at his things as he began to activate machinery and to hook the patient's physiological brain activities to the instruments. "It's the same procedure as the previous. Now, please have a normal conversation with Arthur Kirkland over there."

The man's head snapped back towards Arthur so the eyes were straight on the intern. The unnerving smile stretched further, contorting the flesh in more folds and shadows. A pudgy hand beckoned Arthur over, fingers curling inwards to show stubby fingernails. Arthur hesitated, taking a step forward but stopping. The man tilted his head downwards, and his fingers curled again. Still, Arthur stayed at his spot near the exit; he moved only when Sadık gestured him over by swinging his arm.

When Arthur stood directly in front of the man, the patient gestured to a metallic chair at the end of his bed. "Please take a seat."

Wordlessly Arthur dragged the chair over and sat in front of the man. Both males stared at each other, like complete opposites. Arthur frowned, sitting up straight. His shoulders were shrugged up to his neck. In a way, he appeared to be in an interview rather than a normal conversation. On the other hand, the patient was completely relaxed; his smile was similar to one of a clerk, who had been frowning at nothing until somebody came up to him. He was the interviewer, Arthur the interviewee. Unreasonably, Arthur was under the pressure. Briefly, he looked Sadık again, eyes wondering what Arthur should do or why he was there, but the BCWD staff member was too busy with other things to care.

"So you're Kirkland, aren't you?" the man asked. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Ivan Braginski." The hand that beckoned him over turned to offer a handshake.

Again Arthur hesitated. He had heard the name before, feeling that Sadık had mentioned the name sometime too long to remember. Nevertheless, a sense of apprehension draped over him. He kicked himself for that though; he wasn't a coward. If this was what was expected of him—to do things that instinct told him not to—then that was what he was going to do. Shifting in his seat, he visibly relaxed, his frown twitching at the corners in something appearing to be a "personable smile." He took Ivan's hand, and greeted, "Hello, Braginski. It's a pleasure to meet you as well."

Ivan nodded and pulled his hand back. He was much more courteous than Arthur had expected, although that smile was still rather unnerving for whatever reason he couldn't identify.

A strange silence permeated between the two, and the only thing that could be heard was Sadık's clamour. Arthur waited for the other to speak, but he wasn't stupid. He realised that the conversation had to be initiated. So thinking up some common conversation-starter, Arthur opened his mouth to speak.

"So you're Francis Bonnefoy's intern, yes?"

Green eyes blinked and Arthur pulled his head back. "Uh, well, yes. Yes, I am. Do you know him?"

Ivan's fleshy cheeks contorted. "Of course I know him. We've met before a few months ago. I had just moved here, and Sadık over there—" he gestured towards Sadık, who was placing headphones over his ears and moving his finger along lines across screens "—needed somebody to help… handle me, as he said. So we've met before, at night, when there is nobody else to help him."

"… Oh."

Ivan's smile disappeared suddenly. The corners of his mouth simply dropped. "He's a real piece of work, that Francis Bonnefoy. He talks a lot, but everything is methodical with him. Efficient. Mechanical. Blind to everything around him. He whines about everything, but then he turns around without any hesitation."

"… Right."

"He's a lot like Sadık over there. Constantly being fed papers and spitting out finished products. Never thinking before they raise their hands." Ivan leant forward, his hands leaving the sheets of his bed. The grotesque smile reappeared. He didn't lower his voice, speaking as if the subjects of his words weren't present. Surprisingly enough, Sadık worked as if he couldn't hear anything, not even the insults that Ivan was rolling off his tongue. "True cold-blooded murderers, they are. Don't you hate people like them?"

"Yes." Arthur stiffened. A light draft blew passed his ear, but he didn't dare look away from Ivan's face.

The chubby hand rose up again, reaching towards Arthur's unsmiling face. "I have found a true comrade in you." Ivan's smile widened. "You are nothing like Francis. Your feet stops and turns around. Nobody else here does that…" Ivan's face drew closer and closer, while his eyes narrowed into crescents. Arthur didn't back away in response though; he sat straight in his seat, allowing only his gaze to move and his left pointer finger to twitch. To pull away would be rude, in Arthur's eyes.

"You and I, we're quite similar," Ivan continued. "People who think and feel before they raise their fists. We do it in self-defence—for the better, because we're angry, lonely, and afraid. Nobody tells us what to do except ourselves. Together, we let blood flow down walls, guts and gore spill out from gaping stomachs, skulls shatter into white shards across blue tiles, organs twist like a blender." Chilling yet scorching fingers ran down from Arthur's cheekbone to his chin, nails creating a light track like water. Ivan's voice began to shake, wavering and cracking. "Killed are our friends and enemies. Condemned because we don't know what else to do anymore."

A series of beeps sounded in quick succession. Something hit the ground.

Yet Ivan continued. "I know more than people think I know. Arthur, please—"

Ivan collapsed. His nails ran red lines down Arthur's neck before leaving, falling as soon as thick shoulders and scarf touched the blue tiles. The large man landed in a heap. His knees were bent close to his chest. The once wide eyes were scrunched with his nose, forehead and cheeks. A long needle stuck from his neck where the puncture let a trickle of blood and blue, honey-like substance flow.

Arthur stared. Then he looked up again.

Right at the bedside stood Sadık, his mouth set evenly underneath his mask. A black dart gun the size of an outstretched hand was aimed at where Ivan had sat, and a sliver of steam wafted from the barrel. A capsule of some purple fluid was on one side of the gun, while another capsule of pink fluid was on the other side. A few needles stuck out from the back of the gun, but Sadık's thumb covered the butts and pushed the needles into the gun.

Finally, Sadık moved. He stuck the gun into his pocket and covered it with a bulky hand.

"I'm sorry. I should have paid attention," he said curtly, the corners of his mouth moving steadily downwards. "It could have been dangerous. None of the readings were showing warnings signs of any foul intent, but when I looked up, everything was too obvious. Sorry, Arthur."

Arthur's jaw dropped slightly. He looked down at Ivan and then back at Sadık. "It's fine."

Sadık's shoulders drooped, and a large smile travelled over his face. "Okay, thanks." He paused for a moment, and then continued. "You're done here. You can just leave now—go back home and take a well-deserved break. I'll handle everything here myself."

"Thank you. It was a pleasure to work with you. Have a nice day."

The two dipped their heads at each other. Arthur didn't know whether or not he looking at Sadık's eyes; still, he continued to look at the white mask in hopes to fake eye contact. Then, the blond intern turned on his heels and walked out the door. Not another word was spoken: Maybe it was because of the ambiance, or maybe it was because they didn't have to. Nevertheless, Arthur was glad that he had gotten everything done, and that he was finally going back "home." He had other things to do, and it was about time he moved on from BCWD's duties.

Arthur still stopped and looked back though.