CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Story of Scars

The faint sound of someone humming a rather catchy tune was barely heard throughout the extraordinarily big and extremely loud airport. People were bustling about, either rushing to their flights or sleeping. It was rather early in the morning anyway, and Laura was on the way to her last minute flight. She had to admit, the last thing she expected to do when she woke up was rush to buy the cheapest plane tickets to America.

When the news had arrived that multiple large countries, European and Asian alike, had failed to return to their homes after the monthly world meeting, everyone was startled. It was normal that they'd stay for a day or two extra, but when they did they usually told others ahead of so people wouldn't really worry.

But none of the countries had done this. In fact few even realized that the others were missing. They did know that a handful had stayed behind to search for one of the Italian brothers. But it was thought that after they got onto late flights and returned home.

It wasn't until after Roderich had gone to visit Ludwig to discuss certain affairs on the topic of Gilbert that he discovered neither Germans were in their household. Soon after the disappearance of the "Bad Touch Trio" and a certain Englishman along with two Italians and Asians was discovered. Interestingly enough this was all discovered over the period of four nights and it wasn't until Laura woke up this morning that she was informed of this by none other than her big brother, Abel.

He told her about it and said if she felt like it she could go and find out about it. He claimed he had more important matters to attend to then whatever problems a certain Spaniard might be going through, as he had his own to worry about.

So she quickly bought a ticket and ran off to the airport, packing two bags with only a couple pairs of clothes, United States mint, a couple of books, and her phone. She hoped that it would be enough to sustain for a couple of days, and if anything she could always ask. Now, here she was, going through the security check. She was confident that it would be a breeze. And sure enough it was.

She had gone through it plenty of times before, and most people there knew her. Not only did she go there often, she was also their country's personification. It was only respectful to know who she was.

She moved through the security check and showed them her ticket, verifying that she was there to get on a plane and no other reason. The guard looked at her ticket and then asked for her ID. She wasn't sure why but showed it anyway. After the guard seemed to look back and forth he pocketed her ticket and gave her back her I.D. "Please follow me ma'am." He said and ushered her down another hallway.

She was unsure of where she was going but followed anyway. She took notice to the fact that she was going in the opposite direction of her gate. After going through a series of hallways and doors, she found herself on the airstrip, ending up closer to a moving plane than she ever imagined. They were huge and she quickly questioned where she was being lead.

A few planes later and they were at a smaller, luxurious looking jet. "Your flight madam." The guard told her, helping her up the stairs into the jet. She was handed her luggage that had been brought by another man and entered, leaning down a bit to get through the doorway.

When she went inside the first thing she saw was the many red, cushioned seats and opened windows. The walls were tan and the ground was carpeted. There was a large walkway between the two sections of seats and up ahead was another steel door that lead to the front of the plane. Behind her was a rather large bathroom.

When she searched around she spotted multiple heads of other people. She was unsure how she had managed to get a ticket onto this plane, as she had only paid around a hundred euros for everything. She went down the walkway and quickly recognized faces.

In the first seat to the left was a certain cat lover, Heracles. Who was, as always, sound asleep. A black bag was in his lap, it slightly unzipped and a hand placed inside. In front of him was a trigger happy Swiss who sat quietly, reading a book that Laura couldn't identify. Vash looked up at her as she walked by and she smiled. He nodded in recognition and went back to reading whatever it was had had.

To her right she saw another man who she failed to recognize. He also appeared to be sleeping, his elbow resting on the window pane and his hand in a fist, the knuckle against his cheek. He was wearing some sort of ball cap that covered half of his face, eyes included, and the only real given knowledge of him being asleep was the soft snoring. His hair was parted in the front, it being a darker shade of red, and he wore a jacket over what appeared to be a white cross.

Not wanting to wake him up to see how who he was, Laura moved on to see who else had come on this ride. She was rather positive that this jet was strictly for countries, which just added to her curiosity. Next she caught sight of none other than Elizabeta, a good friend of hers. She was talking to Roderich who, when she got closer, looked up and met her stare. She smiled and waved, he nodded. Elizabeta, sort of confused, turned to see whomever was there. But her confused expression changed instantly.

"Bell!" She said, jumping up onto her feet and giving her friend a hug.

"Hey Beta." Laura said in reply. "You're here too?" She asked quickly afterwards. Elizabeta nodded.

"We had to come." Roderich said with a roll of the eyes. "Who knows what Gilbert is capable of." He added before opening up a random music magazine he likely brought along, glancing through it.

"We've been flying around, picking up other countries. There's probably a few more we need to get before we can finally head over to the America." Elizabeta explained.

"Oh, and who's that?" Laura asked, pointing over her shoulder towards the mysterious man. The other just shrugged.

"He got on when we were sleeping. We've been flying around all night non stop. We get off and walk around between trips but still." Laura opened her mouth to speak again but was cut off when the overhead speaker turned on.

"Ladies and Gentlemen this is your captain speaking. We are about to take to the skies please buckle your seat belts and wait for recognition."

Laura sat down next to Elizabeta and buckled up, placing her luggage in an overhead container. An air attendant came by and made sure they were all secured and that phones were off. Then they informed that refreshments and whatnot would be brought in later on after the jet was in the air. Discussions continued and it was a rather peaceful time. But even now Laura felt tired.

She had barely slept for five hours and now this was the perfect opportunity to get an hour or two in. Telling Elizabeta that she was going to nap for a little bit, she moved to an open seat and leaned her head against the window, closing her eyes as they took off. She had one last glance at the mysterious stranger who still appeared to be sleeping. But when her eyes were half lidded and her vision darkened, she would've sworn that, under that ball cap, she saw two green eyes staring dead back at her.

Next stop, Romania

. . .

When Gilbert and Lanzo got into the two door BMW it had been silent. When they got out of the driveway it had been silent. And when they got onto the road it had been silent. There were two possibilities for this and both were very like.

The first one being because Gilbert had, after buckling up, placed the loaded pistol in his lap and sat with his hand next to the trigger.

It could of also been because of the scene that had just occurred inside the house.

Silence had been imminent.

So they drove for a long time without sharing words. Not that Lanzo cared too much. Gilbert obviously needed some time to calm down and maybe even think some things through. Hopefully when his mind was a bit more clear it would be much easier to talk to him.

Once they finally left civilization and ended up on the dirt road that two cars had already driven down within the last day, that's when the conversation began. At first Gilbert was hesitant as was Lanzo to answer. Even if he had said he would tell everything he knew, it was mainly to keep his head. He wasn't sure if every last deep and dark secret that he had locked away in some far off chamber would be released from the darkness and brought into the light for others to see. It was a dangerous deed to execute for sure, one wrong step, one wrong word, and everything comes toppling down. Lanzo looked over and took a breath as they drove. They were going over the speed limit, but they had to. As they had already discussed, time was limited.

"Alright, ask me anything you want to know." Lanzo spoke, glancing over at Gilbert but finding out that he was, staring out the window, refusing to look at Lanzo. He was either deep in thought or just didn't want to look at him for his own reasons. He then turned around in his chair, leaning back and closing his eyes before opening his mouth to speak. His jaw hung in mid air for a few seconds before it closed. Then he spoke, finally deciding on what he would ask.

"How many of you are there. In general."

"As many as there are of you. Everyone has their own personal opposite. Or, in some cases, their inner darkness. Their demon."

"Is everyone in your world... crazy?"

"Everyone's a little bit crazy on the inside Gilbert."

"Why do you want to kill us off?"

"I don't but my companions don't have the same point of views. Some hold grudges against their counterparts, others are obsessed with being in control. Some just want to kill everything and everyone. It's... a bit of a disorder."

"Where did your scars come from?"

"..."

It was most definitely the last thing he had expected to be asked out of all the damn things. Anything else he was prepared for. His family, his friends. The Two-Ps, the One-Ps. Information on Feliciano, information on their base. Even the story of how they got there. But out of everything, everything he had a chance to ask. It had to be about his scars.

His hell forsaken scars.

The car fell silent again, awkward silence. Gilbert knew that he had done something wrong, it was obvious. Lanzo's scars were a very sensitive topic. It was the only explanation. So Gilbert didn't push it any further.

"It's a long story but... I suppose we have plenty of time huh." Lanzo finally spoke, his voice was small, weak. Gilbert looked over at him but his eyes were glued on the road.

"Most of these scars I got at different points in time. Usually during wars. Only a few were... by the same person. This one," He pointed to the one across his left cheek.

"Was because of Roland. Austrian Succession Got me pretty good along with Franceska. She got the one on my arm, but that happened later. I thought I was in the advantage when I was against Roland. He was on his back and I was standing above him, ordering for a surrender. He was just too stubborn but I was the same at one point. He grabbed a sword without my knowing and swung it blindly. It met either way and I was stuck with a bit of remembrance of that day. And, of course, later on the Hungarian army came in as aid and kicked my hide back across the border." He pointed to the first scar across his nose, higher than the other but much more faded.

"I got this during the War of 1870. Franco-Prussian War. I was, at least, not on my own during this war. I was backed up by my family. They didn't have to join in, they could've left it as is and had me deal with it on my own.

"But they didn't, instead they joined in and stood by my side to fight a common enemy. If anything, it was entirely my fault I got this scar and could've avoided it if I hadn't had been as foolish. It was during one of the less violent naval battles near the end of the war. We were given the chance to board a French flagship so we jumped on the opportunity. It was more for the sake of pride than anything else. We could've taken it down with our ships on their own. We also had the chance to lead them over to the docks, leaving them open to other attacks. But we still went on with it.

"I boarded first, leading a few other men with me. We attacked the French head on, it was a rather easy battle. Then Jean showed up. I don't know where the hell he came from, probably sitting below deck with another platoon of his own. My men against his and the two of us fought on our own. I was cocky, the war was already in the hands of the Germans and now it was only a matter of stopping lesser forces and making the victory official.

"So I admit it, I was showing off. I wasn't taking things as serious as I should have. And I paid for it. While lost in my stupid prideful moment Jean got me, straight across the face. If it wasn't for one of the lieutenants jumping in at the last moment, I'd likely have been a dead man." He now motioned to the scar under that one.

"This one, Second Schleswig War. I managed to escape the first without any scars, the second I wasn't as lucky. I got this on the battlefield but I'm not sure who inflicted it. It was one of the few times Roland and I actually managed to cooperate on certain terms. Trying to beat the Danish. Anyway, it was the last battle of the war. Rifles and cannons were being shot and swords were clashing like no other. Horses stumbled around the battlefield, some being startled and running off in random directions due to loud sounds, others being lead into fights. I was on one of those horses, taking out any enemies I could get close enough to. At that point my munition was low, so I had no such choice otherwise.

"As the battle waged on a renegade sword came out of supposingly nowhere. It clipped my helmet before cutting through and into flesh. And just like that I was on the floor. My helmet flew off and my horse nearly trampled me. I was hauled off to the sidelines to get assistance. A peace treaty was signed later. Nothing else is important." His finger moved to the last scar, this one crossed over his right eye.

"This one..." He sighed.

"I'll tell you this much, I hate this story. I don't know if you went through the same thing that I did, I'll just have to assume not. It was late in World War II, after Italy switched sides. We all knew it wasn't Luciano's fault for doing so. He had no other choice but to after the Allies invaded his country. But it all sent us over the edge. Already at that point we had lost plenty of alliances and this was about enough. It was down to three of us, myself, my brother, and Kuro. Japan. The stress of losing another alliance, especially one we had become so close to, was taking the toll on all of us.

"But I don't think any of us saw it coming. Not at all. Against everything he stood for, everything he had been told to believe, Kasper went against us. He gave the Allies inside information on multiple Prison Camps as well as ratting out spies. He screwed us over so much it was a damn outrage. But as if that wasn't enough, he joined the rebels. Burning his Nazi uniform and leaving with the traitors. At least that's what I thought at first you know. I was blinded by Hitler's imagine as well. I thought everything he said was true in then end. I look back and understand that I was wrong but I didn't get that before. Maybe if I had I'd still be a country.

"Anyway, one day I was leading a squad of German soldiers through unmarked territory. It wasn't a normal occurrence but we had no choice. We were looking for a couple of escaped prisoners and that's the only place we had thought to look. So we were going around, looking through every crevice we could find. It was boring for the most part. That was until we got ambushed. Rebels as you would have expected. They jumped us, flanked us, and cut us off in general. We were outnumbered and had no choice but to fight back. Yet the only advantage we had was our gear. We fought them off, managing for a while. Then Kasper came out from behind a few trees and caught me by surprise. The next thing I knew blood was dripping down the side of my face. The rebels ran off afterwards, we won the fight. But we had more wounded than anything and returned empty handed.

"You know how the war ended, I don't need to get into detail. There's more scars that I have but those are stories for another time. Their reasons are much more... brutal. And a bit harder for me to explain. Maybe another time." He ended quietly and the silence returned to the car once more. That was until Gilbert decided to ask one more question.

"Lanzo."

"Yeah?"

"What happened to your arm?"

. . .

Where the hell did the truck even come from?

The van filled with Two-Ps had been driving down the road for a good twenty or so minutes after the scream was heard. Then, out of no where, a green truck had pulled them over, being filled with four rangers that came to investigate the explosions. They stopped the van immediately, it apparently appearing a bit too suspicious to just let it pass by. The head ranger spoke to Kasper while the others moved around in the back.

Feliciano's mouth was covered to stop him from saying a single word. That was assisted with the cold tip of a revolver against the side of his head.

Two rangers moved around towards the back, hands at their holsters as they attempted to look through the heavily tinted windows. Thankfully they couldn't and that stopped them from seeing anything they didn't need to see. They talked behind there, being close enough to the door that both Allan and Viktor could hear them speaking.

They was obviously suspicious of it all and planned to open the door when whomever was inside least expected it. That couldn't happen as they'd get the jump on them. Allan and Viktor quietly informed the others, making sure that no one up front could hear them.

"Well deal with it." Luciano ordered. The two nodded, bat and shovel in hand as they waited for the doors to be opened.

Meanwhile as they sat there a pistol was slowly inched towards the front seat, the end grazing Kasper's fingers. He gripped it slowly, making sure that he didn't pull the trigger, and continued to talk with the ranger who was asking him about how many people were in the car, where they were coming, where they were going, about the explosions. Really just about anything.

Andrew watched another ranger walk along the front of the car, checking the plates of it. He placed his hand on the door handle, waiting for the moment when he was to jump out. The second the doors in the back were thrown open Kasper would shoot the ranger to his side and Andrew would tackle the one in front. No one could be left alive, especially as witnesses.

And then, just like that, the two doors flew open.

One ranger was welcomed with the blunt end of a shovel, the other with the nailed tips on a bat. They both flew back from both encounters, the sound of bones breaking being loud and obvious.

Then the gun went off and the third ranger was down.

And within seconds the fourth was too. Andrew took his head and banged it into the front rim. The blood rubbed against it but it would be cleaned off later, it didn't matter now. One ranger had a broken nose and a fractured jaw, the other was killed instantly, blood flowing off the side of his head. They hauled the bodies into the woods, somewhat hiding their tracks in the process. Just to make sure the one that was not yet dead wouldn't follow them, they shot him in the legs, immobilizing him. He would die slowly in a puddle of his own blood.

This was all before getting back into the van and driving again.

Feliciano wasn't held at gunpoint any longer, which relieved him greatly. But he still felt a pang of guilt in his chest.

It was unbearable and made him want to cry some more. So many people died as a cause of him, and he could only wonder how many more would. His friends had basically died at his own hand. The button. He could of chosen against pressing the button. Maybe he should have, been strong and just refused to do so. It's not like Luciano wouldn't of done it afterwards anyway. But he pressed the button. He killed his friends. Every last one of them. And now they were left for dead, bodies likely never being found. And it was all his fault.

. . .

Everything hurt.

Every limb in his body. They were either swore, cut, bruised, or burned.

It was a living hell.

He couldn't move, moving meant pain.

Lots and lots of pain.

So he just laid there in the dirt, Kiku seeming to have ended up somewhere else. But he didn't look where. His eyes were pinned to the sky. Kuro could hear footsteps coming near him. He still didn't move his head. He just sat there and waited for whatever was coming to him.

Then the glare of the sun was blocked out by a blackened figure.

It wasn't that the figure itself had a darker skin color, it was because of the fact that they blocked the sun out so suddenly that Kuro's vision didn't have a chance to adjust.

He winced and attempted to bring up his hand to shade his eyes, but again he was far too pained and dropped it to his side. "Get up pàntú." Yao said in a somewhat of a strong voice, yanking Kuro to his feet by his arms. The pain was terrible and he fell to his knees right after he stood. He leaned forward, hands placed against the ground in a desperate attempt to support his own body weight. But they shook under it and he fell to his elbows. Yao sighed and turned towards the others.

"I don't think he can walk." Another person walked up in front of Kuro, he could only see their feet.

"No problem." He barely recognized the voice. Looking up, he was met with the bottom of a boot and landed on his back, hard. All the air was knocked out of him and he was left withering on the ground. Alfred shook his head.

"We'll just have to move him into the van. I'm sure he'll fit in the trunk." Yao nodded. They barely cared about the deed that Kuro had just done.

He was still a monster to them.

So many reasons piled up on the list that made them want to kill him. The bombing of Pearl Harbor, the betrayal. Attacks, assassinations, threats, arguments. And to pull it all together with a bloody ribbon was the kidnapping of another country.

Feliciano was still missing, the Two-Ps had been sly and tricked them easily. Quite honestly they should of known better, it was all outright suspicious. But as they said before and they will say many times from now, they had no other leads. If anything this whole thing had it's ups and downs. Yes a lot of people got hurt but now they had Kuro. And he was someone they would just love to interrogate.

As Kuro was hauled off to the automobile as another pulled up, stopping at the very edge of the road and then shutting off. At first everyone thought that a couple had Two-Ps had returned for a bit of a round two, which was half right, as Lanzo and Gilbert left the car.

Gilbert, upon seeing his brother, ran up to him and tackle-hugged him to the ground. "West! Haha! I knew no /almost as/ awesome /as me/ brother of mine could die so easily!" Ludwig couldn't help but smirk, allowing his brother to hug him before pushing him off. "Ja ja, no need to get over excited. But just make sure you thank Arthur. If it wasn't for him we would all be dead."

It was at that point that Gilbert looked up and saw the unconscious Brit along with multiple other wounded. Ivan, Francis, Antonio, Yao, and even Kiku were hurt to some large extent, some larger than others. It would seem that the Two-Ps did quite their number on everybody. And they were no where to be found, likely leaving after their damage was done. That would explain why Lanzo had shrunk down in his seat when a certain white van had passed them on the road.

Speaking of Lanzo, he was keeping his distance from the group that had formed. It seemed he was watching Kuro be manhandled as he was put in the truck. Gilbert motioned for him to come closer, but he refused, instead staying in spot and not coming any closer than he found required.

Gilbert sighed at his counterpart and then walked over to him. "C'mon, no point in staying back here!" He exclaimed. Lanzo shook his head.

"I'm not going to. They obviously don't like me and it won't help anybody if I just show up, immediately being considered a teammate even though I've already betrayed people close to me, and then just give them more information they'll probably just call bullshit. Especially after what Luciano did."

"Well we have to try, there's bound to be something that you can do to prove to them you're not just some liar." The two stood there and thought for a moment, ignoring everything going on behind them when Gilbert quickly snapped his fingers together.

"I got it! You can be a spy!" He said, happy that he could come up with something.

"A s-spy? Are you mad? It's bad enough that I ditched my duties to visit you and then drove all the way out here. If I return now they'll know that I did something I wasn't supposed to do!"

"That might be but it's the only role you can manage. Go in and find some important things out then tell me and I'll tell the others. It'll be a piece of cake as long as you don't think too much about it!" He ended it with a smirk, making everything sound a lot easier than it actually was. Lanzo sighed, defeated.

"Fine. I'm a dead man anyway..."

List of names just in case you didn't case on:

Roland - Austria
Franceska - Hungary

Laura - Belgium
Vash Zwingli- Switzerland
Heracles Karpusi - Greece

Pàntú = Traitor (Chinese)

Ja = Yes (German)

A/N: FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF! While I was midst of editing this my browser closed and I lost around an hour's worth of freakin progress. Some things aren't exactly as I had it before but I don't care anymore.

Also, can you guess who the mysterious character is? (DON'T SPOIL IT PEOPLE I KNOW IN REAL LIFE!)

I'll give you three quick hints.

1 - He has been briefly mentioned once in an actual Hetalia episode

2 - Though he has been mentioned he did not make an actual appearance so, therefore, his design is fan made, but he has one of the most popular fan designs.

3 - He is the older brother of a character that is already in the story

Got any ideas, feel free to put them in a review. I think one description I put down already gives it away since only one actual OC wears a certain something. But anyway, happy guessing~