A/N: The name "guide" is at the bottom of the page.

Rewritten: 7/22/2015

CHAPTER SIX
Welcome Back, Darkness

It didn't take more than a bite for Feliciano to slip back into unconsciousness.

Oliver stifled a laugh into his sleeve, still in awe. It was true, he was lucky. Out of six, he picked the one that wouldn't kill him. No rat poisons or laxatives, just sugar, sprinkles, and a bit of sleeping powder. How did you end up with luck like that? The kind of luck that only works when it feels like it, that gets you in a shit situation but still pulls you out alive in the end. It was weird, but oh well.

At least his stomach was just a bit more full.

He left the room shortly. Oliver would have to remember to dispose of the cupcakes later, but if any of his companions asked for one he wouldn't hesitate to give them their picking. The bunch should know better by now, he hoped. But until he had the time to find some purpose for them, the cupcakes were dropped off onto the counter.

There was more important matters to worry about now.

Shortly, he skipped into the "meeting room" and found his seat. It wasn't hard, the table was practically split down the middle. The groups were as close to the original Axis and Allies as you could get – with a few tweaks here and there. Oliver slipped into the seat next to his American companion, folding his hands into his lap and sitting patiently.

The tension could be cut with a knife.

But for once there wasn't an instant explosion of threats and violence. No, there was a middle ground this time, and more important things to focus on. Today's topic was a simple matter: "How do we keep running our other halves in circles?"

This was a game in the making, the pieces were on the board and they had to play carefully. They wanted to play for as long as they could after all – with the everlasting uncertainty of how long they would remain in this dimension hanging over their heads. How they got here was still unexplained, but that was a question to worry about at another meeting.

The silence remained for just a moment longer.

Luciano, the Axis leader, leaned back in his chair, feet on the table. He looked uninterested: bored and without care. To him, this was nearly pointless. The entire ordeal seemed to be resting firm in their palms. They had a hostage and the location of their opponents' HQ. Which meant that no one on the other side would make a risky move as long as a life was hanging in the balance, they had nothing to worry about. But some believed differently.

The German, Kasper, sat next to him. Back straight, firm and tall. His arms remained crossed, and stern eyes peered out from under his hat. The hilt of his knife was on his display, to remind everyone that he was armed and prepared to kill.

Kuro was in a similar position. His hand rested on the sheath at his hip. It held a katana, freshly sharpened and looking to spill some blood. His brother was just across the table, and a viable participant.

Leonardo leaned forward, head on his hands. He stared boredly at the roof, acting as if the revolver did not rest just in front of him: loaded.

Kasper's brother sat slouched in his seat, averting eye contact. Rather, Lanzo took interest in the scarred up section of the table. Metal fingers traced the lines, going over every jagged cut and scrape. He wasn't much for talking anyway.

Sebastian tried to avoid making it obvious that he was glaring, but he was, and anyone who was willing to glare back was looking for a fight. He would turn down the challenge though, because this was a serious matter and he wasn't about to get killed.

On the other end of the table sat the competition/temporary allies.

The overly excited Englishman was still in his chair for once, yet the smile wouldn't leave his lips so quickly.

The American companion bore an irritating look, smug and intimidating. Allan didn't want to leave this meeting without a fight, that's half the reason he ever came to these. The other half was acting like he cared enough to listen to whatever a certain Italian had to say.

His brother did not have such interests. Andrew was questioning why he ever bothered to come to these meetings in the first place. Usually nothing got done, and someone either ended up hurt or dead. But the promise that this meeting, of all meetings, would be different convinced him to take the chance. With any luck he'd walk off with less than a scratch.

Jian was next, glaring right back at his brother. The sibling rivalry couldn't be more obvious between the two, especially with the scar – which still provoked memories – so easily visible to the naked eye.

Sitting at the far end of the Allies' size was Viktor. Tall, tired, and lacking entertainment: he balanced a shovel in his lap. Always prepared to knock someone out or bury the body, assuming the Russian didn't miss his shot. It wasn't his fault, it was early and the circles under his eyes showed the exhaustion plain as day.

In the very last seat was Jean, who smoked a cigarette and bore the best poker face out of the bunch. He was easily amongst those who couldn't care less about this entire situation.

The drawn out silence was finally ended by none other than Luciano, who planted all four legs of his chair back onto the ground and cleared his throat. Muttering about how he might as well "get this shit rolling," the Italian stood up and met Allan's eyes.

"Look, we already know what's going on. The other halves are looking for their stupid little excuse of a country. We have locked away in that busted up freezer, so they'll only get to him by going through us." That was obvious, but that wasn't the main part of today's game. "Allan went and dropped off a few clues yesterday. We're trying to see if maybe they're competent after all." He left out the part about how they were bound to be, considering some of the knuckleheads he knew. "But now we're going to force them to back track. Whatever sliver of hope they might have is going to be ripped away, with force." Some liked the sound of that. They'd been craving for some action, Luciano was practically handing it to them on a silver platter. "This is our chance to get at them and take whatever they might know. Any papers, we burn. Any disks, we destroy. Whatever you find get rid of by any means, capish?" There were nods in response, and Luciano smiled. It was nice, getting people to listen and obey without the threat of a blade.

Maybe he'd do this more often.

"Let's get some teams divided up. We have a lot of work to do, don't butcher it." With a clap of the hands the meeting was over, and people were shuffling out of their seats.

Lanzo was given the decision of making teams. As far as the rest of them were concerned he wasn't a threat and he wasn't biased. Knowing Luciano, he might give the competition the more annoying or difficult jobs just to spite them, despite the thinly veiled "alliance." Same goes for Allan, or another else on either side. At least the ex-country didn't have the merit for grudges.

There were three "out" teams and one "in" team.

The in team consisted of Allan, Oliver, and Kasper who were given the simple task of staying behind and watching the prisoner. They didn't expect an ambush or surprise raid: it had only been about a day and they doubted the halves could solve the mystery so quickly. But it was a well placed precaution.

The other "out" teams would be performing the breaking-and-entering.

The first team consisted of Andrew, Kuro, and Luciano. They were tasked with scrubbing the World Meeting building clean of all evidence. A difficult task to say the least, attacking an HQ with such few numbers was never easy. But they were prepared to succeed, or at least drop a few of their numbers before going down.

The second team was made up of Leonardo, Sebastian, and Jean. This group was given the first set of homes that belonged to their opponents. The people in question weren't expected to be home during the day, so a quick break in and scan for information wouldn't hurt anyone.

The last team ended up being Lanzo, Jian, and Viktor. They received the other half of the houses.

Last minute thoughts were shared before the teams went their separate ways. With a task at hand, they tried hard to put aside the petty differences – at least for now.

Tormenting their counterparts was priority #1.

Andrew's group arrived at their destination.

Sitting hidden in bushes, silence enveloped them. They were looking for an opportunity, a chance to break in and do their job. It wasn't like they had a time limit: they could wait until nightfall if need-be. By then the building would be empty, and a break in would be far easier to pull off. But it was also a boring wait, a wait that could lead to a rise in tension. That would only lead to enacting acts of violence, among other questionable things, to one another.

But they caught their break.

Kuro came back from his scouting, dropping down next to the other two who had waited in uncertain anticipation. Thankfully he only brought good news. "You'd think they'd talk quieter when dealing with something as important as this."

"Just cut to the chase," Luciano snapped and their stares connected in a glare.

"They're leaving for breakfast. We won't have a hard time getting past whoever stays behind, they're all tired and hungry. With any luck we'll cut right through them and destroy what we need to destroy before the rest get back."

Luciano nodded, satisfied with the information but not willing to admit it too much. The group sat for a moment longer, waiting until the building doors flew open and their counterparts filed out. There was no order in their movements, they were all rowdy and irritated. All-nighters never were very fun.

They waited until the crowd disappeared around the corner before doing so much as speak a word. "I counted seven leaving," Andrew muttered, slowly getting to his feet. He flicked leaves off of his shirt as the other two composed themselves. "Who knows how long it'll be before they're back though," he added, "let's hurry up."

There was little disagreement then.

The group rushed across the street, being sure to narrowly avoid as many cars as possible. Once they got to the staircase they went back into "stealth mode." There was still a chance that someone was inside, or someone would be coming back, and the thought worried them. They could blow this entire thing in an instant, and then they wouldn't have a chance.

The hallway was empty and quiet. They walked through it slowly, Kuro managing to be the more silent of the bunch. His feet were light, Andrew's were heavy, and Luciano managed along the middle. They peaked their heads into each room they passed. Most were abandoned offices and the general supply room. A couple were bathrooms.

Eventually, they reached the entrance bigger than all the rest. Double doors, it was obvious this was the main place of business. If it was anywhere else well, then they weren't sure how meetings were held here.

Luciano took the time to glance inside. Opening one door just a crack, just big enough for light to flow through. Almost instantly he pulled away, barely remembering to softly close the door. In a whisper he spoke: "There's someone in there. He's pretty ugly, looks like Kuro's." The smirk on his face proved that he caught the twitch of Kuro's hand. This was no place or time to explode in the Italian's face, and Luciano knew that. But Kuro would be sure to make him pay for it later.

Calming down, he retorted: "Let me take care of him. He won't be a problem for me, just worry about ransacking the place." They nodded, but couldn't hide the interest in their eyes. It was about time they saw a solid fight between two halves. Luciano's could barely put one up, even if he tried.

But Kuro's showed promise.

The man in question took the front and lead the group through the doors. Making a show he threw them open – hard enough to slam them against the walls. Kiku was startled right out of his seat. When he stood, he expected to see an energetic American greeting him, maybe to boast about how amazing the breakfast had been and then offer them leftovers.

But what he saw instead made him pale.

"I... knew this would come eventually." Kiku sighed as he composed himself. Kuro snickered.

"I was hoping you'd remember, I left behind plenty of reminders." There was mocking in his tone.

Kiku shook his head sadly. "That you did."

As the rest of the team moved past to see what information these people had dug up about them, Kuro's hand slipped to his sheath. Kiku's quickly followed, and the two stared one another down.

Kiku was nervous, you just couldn't tell.

Memories flooded him. He had tried hard to push them away before but now, seeing him again, it brought them back all at once. Suddenly, he was regretting staying behind.

In the background, Luciano and Andrew made quick work of everything they came across. Anything that was paper they ripped, shredded, burned; no matter what might be on it. At most a quick glance was spared, but aside from that it was evidence and all they wanted to do was get rid of it.

Kiku was tempted to see just how much damage they were doing, but he couldn't pull his eyes off of Kuro. He didn't trust him for a reason, the man was dangerous and unpredictable.

So instead, he made the first move.

He had to, there was no other choice. This stalemate between himself and Kuro had to be resolved if there was any chance at stopping them. These men came with the intentions to destroy and destroy they would if he didn't put an end to it while there was a chance to.

He dashed forward. Blade leaving sheath; he held it firm and slashed. Kuro saw it coming: someone was just a bit too rusty. Pulling his katana free provided the block needed. Horizontal, it canceled Kiku's attack and gave him the opening. He parried, Kiku jumped back. Landing flat on his feet, he pulled into a defensive stance.

Kuro circled Kiku, watching him like a hawk with blade at the ready. Staying stationary, Kiku felt beads of sweat wet his forehead. He couldn't tell if Kuro saw through him. If he knew that his opponent was frail and weak from hunger. He was in no condition to fight, not now. The protein bars weren't doing him any good now, and he couldn't tell which one would end him first: the hunger or his counterpart.

The look in Kuro's eyes told him that he had everything to fear.

Meanwhile, Luciano and Andrew were occupied with the evidence, but they had to admit that their attention was constantly drawn back to the fight. Steel clashed with steel, and sometimes with flesh, but win or lose the entire situation was entertaining. Kuro had a solid match that might have otherwise been on equal footing if his opponent wasn't so worn from the investigation.

But the way them moved with one another... it was like a dance. A bloody dance in Luciano's mind, but nonetheless a dance. It brought back memories, both sweet and sour.

The way Kuro spoke to his counterpart made it obvious there was more to this story than was being told, but Luciano would question that later. When they weren't on a tight schedule, and putting Kuro in his place wouldn't be so hard.

They looked through everything there. No cabinet or drawer was left untouched. Granted most were empty, but the few they checked that actually had something was worth the trouble. The paper was torn apart or tossed to the pile to be burned, the rest was tossed Andrew's way so he could crush it. He eventually hit the "jackpot" when he came across a laptop. It was folded up and put away, not so intentionally hidden but they still almost missed it. "They won't be needing this anymore..." he muttered, Luciano nodded.

Dropping the computer down at his feet, he grabbed his hockey stick from where it was left leaning against the wall. Rolling his shoulders a bit prior to, he readied a swing. The strike was brought down onto the computer: once, twice, three times. Up until the screen was smashed, the wires were torn, and the keyboard was little more than broken pieces.

He was sure to remove the memory card before taking one last, hefty swing at the laptop. A hit to the side sent it flying: right out the window. The card he crushed under his foot, whatever was on it now as good as gone. He tossed the remnants out the window too, for good measure.

While he was occupied with the technology, Luciano was rummaging through a drawer when something caught his eye. It was a book, leather cover with pages stuffed to the brink. Each one was dressed in ink and diagrams, pictures stitched to the sides and showing an obvious care in organization and work. The bookmarked page caught his eye, and something told him this just might be worth saving.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Andrew disposing of the laptop and Kuro as occupied as ever. Luciano slipped the book into his jacket, then picked up a handful of paper and tossed them into the pile.

But Kuro was not done with his fight.

He saw that with every strike Kiku grew more and more tired. He wondered how long it had been since the man dueled another, better yet rested. He was becoming sloppy, his movements were slow and even more predictable.

Kuro could easily say that he wasn't even trying at this rate.

On the other hand his reactions were timed: precise and deadly. Every action led to a violent assault of strikes that kept his counterpart on the defensive and on his toes.

There were few openings for Kiku to jump on, a lunge or parry constantly put him in danger. The slit on his arm was already soaking through his jacket, he didn't need another. The most he could do at this point was stall the fight. Keep Kuro and his team here for just a bit longer. With any luck the breakfast group would return, energy replenished, and finish what he started. It was too late for him to do it himself.

Still, there was an opening he caught. Though Kiku might be sloppy, Kuro was cocky. Granted it was for a reason, but it didn't mean he was immune to mistakes. There was a strike, diagonally down. The right side of his body was open. Kiku bit his tongue and tested his luck. He threw out a stab, and Kuro only realized when it was too late.

The blade cut through cloth, then through skin. Crimson poured out as he startled and jumped back. Kuro seemed in some disbelief, hissing as he inspected the mark. The blood flowed from the wound down to his hand, where it dripped freely to the floor. Arguably, it was worse than Kiku's.

He placed his palm over the mark, and glared at his counterpart. But that glare turned to a smirk that told Kiku to watch himself. "Look, now we match," Kuro spat - poison in his tone. His hand pulled away to reveal a bloody palm, but he was disinterested. Rather, the adrenaline surged as he launched forward.

Kiku had to say, he didn't expect the combat to continue so quickly. He hoped to catch his breath, with just a moment to focus on his own injury. But Kuro didn't play like that, he should've realized.

He jumped back as his opponent tried to pounce, the man swinging his sword with the intention to do more than a slit upon a sleeve. But Kiku had overexerted himself. His foot missed, his legs were weak. His landing was not so graceful as it had once been. It was lost as he tripped and landed hard on his back.

There was a moment of daze before he came to his senses.

Quickly he rolled out of the way of another strike, dragging himself to his feet. But the moment of recovery had passed, and Kuro gave him no such pleasure. Rather, he brought the blunt end of a sword down – connecting with bone. They both stumbled, Kiku lost his katana during the tussle, then nearly his lunch. Kuro showed little mercy with a kick to the stomach that reminded them both that he hadn't forgotten.

Kiku was given no opportunity to defend himself as next his sword was kicked away, and then the rest of his pride was stripped.

Kuro planted a firm boot on his chest, pinning Kiku to the floor. The devious smirk that was so accustomed to his counterpart's face was lost as he leaned down, meeting brown eyes with a glare. "Feel familiar?"

Kiku swallowed hard, watching as the blade glimmered: blood still fresh on its edge. Kuro raised it up, prepared to stab in down into flesh. He didn't care where it landed, be it neck or chest, as long as it landed and it landed to kill.

But the opportunity was ripped away as quickly as it had come.

The doors opened. There was a moment of shock and pause amongst the faces of the group as they tried to understand what was going on. The place was ransacked, there was a burning pile of paper in the corner, and Kiku was very much in danger. The Brit met the eyes of Luciano, who had been sitting on the sidelines (along with Andrew), enjoying the show. It took a moment for things to click in his head, and then he jumped. "Get them! They're two-ps!"

Kuro grinded his teeth and then meet Kiku's eyes. He wasn't going to kill him if he wouldn't be able to bathe in the satisfaction afterwards. "You got lucky this time, streetwalker!" He slammed his foot hard onto Kiku's chest, before landing a solid back-handed slap; just to add insult to injury.

Then the trio were fleeing through the glass-filled exit.

A/N: This chapter is 465 words longer than the original.

Phew! This took a few days longer, but that's mainly my fault. I didn't work on it as much as I should have, instead I paid more attention to some of my other fandoms and a bit of school stuff. Nonetheless, it is finally here! And boy was there a lot of introductions. Oh well, it's brief for now. The characters will get fleshed out in later chapters.

Also, don't be misled! Sebastian/Spain did not actually join the Axis during World War II, though they were fascist for sometime (just like Germany and Italy) but it wasn't nearly as intense. I only put him on that team because I needed to keep them even and, well, why not. Also I ended up giving Jian a scar, just to add to the fact that him and Kuro's relationship has never been very friendly.

There's also some semi-suggestive shipping content tucked away in this chapter.

LIST O' NAMES (2P EDITION)
Luciano Vargas: N. Italy

Leonardo Vargas: Romano/S. Italy

Kaspar: Germany

Lanzo Beilschmidt: Prussia

Koru Honda: Japan

Sebastian Fernandez Carriedo: Spain

Allan Jones: America

Oliver Kirkland: England

Jean (Pronounced John) Joc Bonnefoy: France

Viktor Braginski: Russia

Jian Wang: China

Andrew Williams: Canada