CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Memory

The ride to the airport and back was long and unbearable. Traffic was packed with cars of all shapes and sizes, each with their own irritated driver who only wanted to get to their destination quicker than the road workers were allowing them. Francis had to admit, the ride to the port was much better than the ride back home.

For one, when he had come the first time it was only with Lovino whose curses could be easily blocked out by turning up the radio a good bit. But after picking up just about everyone and making the final decision to drop them off at the house before returning to pick up Lukas later on, the noise around the car had intensified. People argued and bickered like no other, and it could easily be considered the equality of a regular world meeting.

Francis found it impossible to muffle the sounds behind him and ended up banging his head into the steering wheel once or twice in order to put his mind elsewhere. All in all, arrival back at the house was stress relieving and Francis couldn't of been happier to have everyone get out.

The others would have to deal with this problem and the drive back to the airport would at least be a bit quieter. And knowing Lukas, he likely wouldn't talk much either way. So then they got back into the truck and were off, Lovino mumbling that he was going to take a nap on the way there as they pulled out of the driveway.

Meanwhile Arthur quickly ushered Vladimir into another room in order to explain the situation. With him out of the room, Elizabeta seemed to calm down and peace was momentarily restored. Of course it would of stayed that way a bit longer if Gilbert hadn't burst through the door at that moment, scaring just about everyone and falling flat on his face. Roderich let out a sigh, Vash shook his head, and Ludwig helped his brother to his feet.

The albino remained dazed for a moment or two before coming back to his senses and snapping into action. He shut and locked the door, made sure that no one had snuck out upon his arrival, then handed the note he had acquired over to Alfred.

It was obvious everyone was confused and just stared at the two who stood up front. Gilbert was rather antsy and wondered if the American could read any slower than he already was. But once he finished he obviously understood everything. Folding up the piece of paper, he ordered for someone to go and retrieve Kiku from the bedroom and for someone to go and get Arthur and Vladimir.

Everyone obliged and within a few minutes the entire group was huddled around in the living room. Alfred would of preferred for Francis and Lovino to be there, but if everything the note read was true then it was better for them to get to Lukas before the two-ps did.

"Alfred what is this all about, I have important matters to attend to if you hadn't noticed already." Arthur said with a huff. Alfred nodded.

"Yes yes I know we all have something we need to work on and people we need to save but this is very, very important. Gilbert here," He said looking over to the other man. "Has been keeping in contact with the spy we sent in recently. The spy has sent a letter that Gilbert has delivered and it has some... interesting news." Alfred said as he stared down at the sheet of paper. "You see," He began. "It would appear that we have a spy in here." He looked up briefly to scan the faces of others. Most appeared shocked, others remained calm. No one seemed extremely nervous, causing him to continue.

"Unfortunately we are unsure of who has been lying to us and been giving Luciano information. But until we find out who this house is going to be on lock down. No one goes in or out and communications to the outside world will be minimal. It may seem drastic but we have no choice. If Luciano is truly learning things from one of us then I refuse to allow him to gain anymore. If you have any complaints about this please feel free to come to me." A sadistic glimmer showed in his eyes for a split moment before it disappeared.

"That explains how Luciano knew so much about us, and how his plan seemed to be so well set up." Arthur muttered as he took everything in. "I mean think about it, at this rate there's probably been a spy since the very beginning. Luciano's figured out so many things and managed to put together such a well made plan.

"He knew when Lovino had gone out to the park and jumped on the opportunity of him being alone.

"Then he purposely got himself captured so he could allow his companions to come in and wound us while no one else could help, he even convinced Kiku to come to a deserted location with the rest of us so we could save who we supposed would be Feliciano.

"Then he was able to capture Lovino after Antonio left the household and stage him as the captive in the middle of a rigged warehouse.

"It was then that he blew it up, attempting to kill all of us but with little success.

"Yet he had still come prepared with gasoline and matches to set the cabin on fire with Kiku trapped inside, forcing Kuro to go in on a suicide mission." Ludwig agreed.

" We should of realized sooner that someone was slipping him information, but we didn't, until it was too late..." And just like that conversation broke out.

Alfred shook his head with a sigh, knowing that now at this rate they wouldn't be able to get back on track as easily as he had hoped. But trying to regain control would be even harder. Giving up on that, Alfred helped Kiku back to the guest bedroom and people slowly began to get back to some form of work.

But in the corner of the room stood someone whose broad figure was hidden away by the shadows. Their once smiling face was now stern and rather irritated.

They had known before that Lanzo would find out about a spy, but they hadn't expected for him to find out so quickly. This was both shocking and rage inducing, and now that means of sneaking out would result in exposure they planned to gather as much information as they possibly could in the time they had. Until then it was only a matter of staying as secretive as they could without drawing attention to themselves.

. . .

Yao sat in one of the four cushioned chairs in the room, staring down at the ground and deep in thought. His knuckles hurt, the skin covered in blood. Not his own blood, no not at all. He had tried to get those thoughts out of his head, put his mind on something else.

Yet he failed to forget those words.

He couldn't help but wonder, was that the truth? Did the American man he knew and trusted during the long and dark days of war have a cruel, pride induced personality that he hid away from the rest of the world so skillfully that no one had even hinted to it?

Truly Kuro was only fibbing, it wouldn't be the first time he had. But still he couldn't help but wonder...

Then he took out his petty anger and confusion on someone else. It may have been cruel but it didn't matter. He had suffered much worse in the years and Kuro deserved to feel some of that pain, some of that... burden. Yet he knew violence didn't solve anything, and he hadn't even done his own job of actually attempting to get some answers out of him.

But it seemed like he wouldn't have to as Heracles showed up after he had heard from a few that they were having trouble interrogating a prisoner. Though he wasn't very fond of interrogation, he wanted to be of use and volunteered to have a go at him. But Arthur had shooed him away, telling him to talk to Yao and saying that he had something else that he needed to attend to.

So here he was now, Heracles nearly giving the old Chinese man a heart attack and feeling bad afterwards. He was briefly yelled at before the other calmed down and he was given a chance to explain himself. He simply stated that he wanted to try and help with the interrogation and that he had a bit of a method to break whomever he was to speak with, though that was half the truth.

He had expected Yao to easily see through his lies and shun him for it but was instead told to "Go ahead" and to be careful, as the prisoner was a tricky one with plenty of honeyed words and charisma. Heracles paid little attention to this as he doubted the prisoner could persuade him in such ways.

When he entered the basement he noticed the eery silence quickly, that assisted with the darkness and soon after, creaky floorboards. But it was a few steps later that the prisoner was revealed, tied up and centered in the room with a single light on, illuminating few.

The prisoner was breathing heavily, lost in their own thoughts and paying little attention to their surroundings as they struggled to stay conscious. Heracles moved closer, quiet and soft, he tried hard to make his appearance unknown to the other. But this sneak was short lived as their head jolted to the left in his general direction.

"Who's there?" They asked, their voice raspy yet pained. Their face being not viewable, identification couldn't be determined.

Heracles couldn't help but think that their voice had a hint of familiarity to it, but shrugged it off and moved in front of them. Their eyes were hidden by the shadow of their bangs, blood seeped down the side of their face thanks to an average sized laceration across the top of their forehead, allowing blood to flow out though at a slower rate then what would be considered life threatening.

Along with that their entire upper body was wrapped in a series of bandages, the thick medical grade material covering whatever wounds that had been sustained but also exposing the many tattoos scattered across their body.

It was also now that Heracles realized, though rather late, that the forehead wound had caused a small puddle of blood on the ground with droplets falling into it, adding to the mass which, coincidentally, he had managed to step in. Removing his shoe from the pool, he'd likely have to take it off later, unless he planned to tread bloody footprints all throughout Alfred's house. But that was a matter for a different time, right now this person was obviously hurt and he needed to make sure that he helped them as best he could, prisoner or not.

Neither him nor the other had made eye contact, and the other had kept his head relatively lowered to keep most of their features unknown.

"One moment." He muttered in his regular calm tone as he left to go upstairs, leaving his shoe behind as planned, and snatching the medical kit from the cabinet.

He managed to re-enter the basement without question and found the other still in their same pained positioned. He moved over and placed the box down at the feet of the chair, leaning over to remove the required supplies consisting of gloves, a bottle of water, a few clean rags, bandaging, and rubbing alcohol.

"Who... are you?" The other asked, voice strained yet curiosity lingered in it. "You seem familiar." He added on, red eyes poking out from under his bangs for the first time since Heracles' arrival.

"I could say the same about you. I'm Heracles Karpusi of Elláda. And you?"

The room fell silent for a moment as Kuro fully took everything in. He was shocked more than confused, he was at least glad that his suspicion was indeed correct.

"Ah... The descent of a great ancient. I thought you looked a tad familiar, for two different reasons of course. I am Honda Kuro of Nihon."

His eyes widened slightly as that name ran through his head. Heracles began to remember a series of thoughts combined into one memory that had happened what seemed to be an eternity ago and he had very well forgotten after the certain... crisis. His thoughts broke up again when his head raised and he heard Kuro chuckle.

"So you remember me too I assume?"

"It would seem."

"I figured. It does seem to be a bit of a topic that would be hard for someone to simply forget don't you think?"

"Exactly. I doubt I could forget such an encounter, even if I had to be reminded of it in some way."

"Like right now?"

"Like right now."

And silence, just like before. The two just stared at each other for a moment before the Greek remembered that he had intended to patch up the cut on Kuro's forehead which was rather hard to ignore. Slipping on the gloves, he folded one rag over and poured water onto the top. Then he moved over and placed a hand under the other's chin, raising it so that Kuro was forced to look at him.

"I'm going to clean the blood off of your face. Please, try not to move." His voice remained monotone as expected and Kuro rolled his eyes.

"Not that I have much of a choice." He finished by fighting against his restraints, achieving nothing aside from proving a point. Heracles ignored the remark, starting the process of wiping off blood and applying pressure at the same time, changing which side of the rag he was using when required.

It was quite a chore as the blood had accumulated since before when he had first prepared to cleanse it. The blood flowed from the gash down his face, over his left eye, and then continued until it ended up at his chin. From there it either stopped, dripped down, or continued going and rolled down in small strands down his neck. Cleaning it all before the blood dried would be hard, but for now he was mainly focused on simply stopping the bleeding by applying the needed amount of pressure.

While he did so Kuro remained quiet and moved at a minimal amount. He was in pain, but it was less than obvious. Eventually the bleeding stopped and Heracles moved on to cleaning the blood off as best he could for the time at hand. He still needed to disinfect and wrap the wound before it got worse.

Placing the bloody rag down he also removed the gloves but only to replace them with a new pair. Then pouring the rubbing alcohol onto a clean rag, he began patting it over the cut. This received a much bigger reaction as Kuro bit his own lip to the point of drawing even more blood and started moving around a good bit, though he tried to stop himself from positioning his head any other way.

"Brings back memories doesn't it?" Kuro hissed as he tried to put his mind elsewhere, but it not exactly working. Heracles gave a short reply before continuing.

After a bit of struggling the wound was cleaned and then bandaged. Heracles began to put everything away as neatly as possible, also placing the bloodied and/or unusable items in a plastic bag to be disposed of later. All the while Kuro stared at his backside, rather dumbstruck for multiple reasons.

"Why do you remember me Heracles? You know you really shouldn't remember me." Heracles stopped what he was doing, slowly putting down the few things he had in hand. He looked over his shoulder but didn't speak. He didn't have a reply, what was there to say? He didn't even know. The memory itself was blurry on it's own.

They had met on accident.

It was after World War II, during the time most countries were rebuilding themselves. His own had been doing well at that point and he decided it was high time he take a visit to his friend Kiku. He had, after all, received a good burden during the war and ended up heavily wounded at the end of it. He just wanted to be assured that his friend was indeed okay and that his recovery was going as planned.

He managed to snatch one of the few tickets to Japan and flew out immediately. It was third class seating but that didn't matter too much to him, he just wanted to arrive a quickly as possible with minimal issues.

Upon arrival in Japan he drove about two and a half hours before he managed to finally get to his real destination. Kiku's house was located out in one of the many bamboo forests. The location allowed Kiku to have the peace and quiet he needed, especially after hard times of war, and also allowed him to be alone when he felt it being required. The only hard part about it was the issue of getting there, driving could sometimes be troublesome and the lack of signs made it a hard place to identify.

That was one of the reasons why other times he would stay in his city home, aside the fact that he could easily attend meetings and other business with his current country's leader(s).

Heracles had noticed some rather peculiar things right off the bat once he had neared the home.

For one, the front door was open ever so slightly and the house was dark. He had visited a few times before and Kiku always closed and locked his door, even though the thought of burglary being of few, wild animals could still wander in if given the chance. Another thing was, even if the house was unoccupied at the moment, Kiku would always leave a single light on, whether it be a candle or a lamp, it would be on. This was because if he was to wander into the forest, which he often did, it would make his way back much easier to find, especially in the dead of night.

From then on out Heracles had approached the residence cautiously. This abnormal behavior pointed to multiple conclusions and he could only hope that this meant Kiku was simply not there at this household and was safe.

He had crept through the front door, moving quietly and scanning around to see if anyone was inside. He hadn't seen anyone at first but that may of been because the house had quite literally been encased in shadows. He continued to move around when he eventually came to the master bedroom. He could faintly see the outline of someone sleeping underneath a thin blanket. Their figure resembled Kiku's, but Heracles was still rather suspicious.

He had moved closer and was able to confirm that, whoever they were, Kiku or not, they definitely looked like him. Stopping in his trail, he decided to leave them alone because if they were his Japanese friend, which he suspected, then waking them up from slumber would both be rude and unneeded. He would just wait for them to arise and then at that point greet them. Until then he decided to lock up the place and light a few candles. Which is exactly what he did.

Afterwards the house, though not the brightest, was at least lit up in the main rooms and the doors were locked so nothing would wander inside without his consent. Then he just sat around and waited, growing a bit impatient but trying not to show it.

He did think once or twice that someone was moving around in the other room, but brushed it off as his foolish imagination playing tricks on him and went back to staring out a window. By that point in time the sun had already set and now the moon was rising and the stars were appearing one by one. All the while he had been oblivious to the other figure moving around the room stealthily, as expected.

Kuro moved about, observing the only other person that had somehow managed to enter his humble abode. The handle of a katana was gripped shakily in his sweaty hand, himself trying to stay as graceful as he could despite the fact that he was currently wounded and bleeding heavily.

Whoever this person was, they were not welcome and he wanted them to leave as soon as possible. But at this point he were unsure in his own abilities to fight them off, even with a weapon. Already feeling light headed at that point, he moved closer and hoped he wouldn't pass out. As he moved he unintentionally made much more noise, this time drawing Heracles' attention who first looked over his shoulder before jumping to his feet and turning around. He was both confused and shocked but refused to show it, having more concern for the other who appeared to be bleeding from a hidden wound.

"W-who are you?" Kuro asked, Heracles giving them an off glance. They sounded like Kiku, they looked like Kiku, but they definitely weren't.

"Kiku?" The other cringed.

"Don't say t-that name." He finished his sentence just in time to break out into a series of coughs, resulting in himself spitting up a small amount of blood and drawing Heracles' attention even more. He moved closer but the other took a step back.

"Don't touch me."

"You need help."

"I don't need anyone's help."

"You're bleeding."

"Great observation."

"Your wounds look severe."

"Why do you care?"

"Well I don't want you to die." And it stopped there.

The calm session of arguing seized right then and there as Kuro stopped to think about what had just been said and quite honestly didn't believe it one bit. He chuckled, fighting back the pain as he turned around and moved towards one of the chairs.

"Very well, we'll have it your way." He placed the katana at his feet as he sat down, grimacing and spitting up more blood. Heracles acted fast, grabbing everything he could and moved quickly over to Kuro. His first plan of action was obviously to the stop the bleeding, as it had already accelerated past safety standards and was now a major problem.

By the time he had even returned into the living room the blood had seeped through the fresh kimono Kuro had slipped into and the entire front was now soaked with the crimson liquid. This was obviously a obstacle and the top of the robe was slipped off, exposing all of the gruesome wounds that had been hidden beneath the cloth.

The most noticeable was a long, thin cut that went from the top of his shoulder all the way across his chest. It wasn't the widest but was most definitely the deepest. Along with that on his left arm were multiple small cuts going all the way down and stopping just above the wrist, suggesting that he had used his own arm as a form of defense against multiple attacks occurring in succession. To add to that was a stab wound in the center of his abdomen. And lastly a gash above his eyebrow.

Heracles had taken action instantly, it was no question that this person was definitely a country. Any other human would have died from wounds like these by now. The fact that they were still alive, though barely conscious, was remarkable.

As the treatment began a series of curse words in multiple languages were both muttered and yelled. Neither spoke to one another directly the entire time, and it wasn't until afterwards when Kuro was on the verge of unconsciousness that they finally conversed.

"Why do you care so much?" Kuro asked as he ran two fingers over the bandages, at that point having changed out of the stained kimono and into much more comfortable clothing.

"About what?" Heracles asked back nonchalantly as poured freshly brewed tea into two cups.

"About what happens to me." Kuro muttered as he was handed a cup of tea. He gripped it shakily but took a long sip to calm his nerves.

"You remind me of someone I know. Someone who I wouldn't let die, especially when I can do something about it. I-"

"Are you talking about Kiku?" Heracles nodded.

"Of course..." Kuro sighed, finishing his cup of tea quickly. "And I'll ask this again." He placed the cup on a nearby table. "Who are you?"

"Heracles Karpusi of Greece. And you?

"You can call me Kuro and nothing else."

"Are you a friend of Kiku?"

"You could... say... that." And then within an instant without a previous notice, Kuro passed out on the chair. Heracles had checked on him the second he had the chance but realized that he had likely just be energy deprived from all the blood loss.

Deciding to move him to the bedroom and letting him fall asleep, he picked Kuro up in his arms and carried him to the room. He was light as expected and the trip was a near painless one. Afterwards he had stayed for five days, two extra than he had previously planned, mainly to care for Kuro.

Kuro did appreciate his help but never commented on it, usually just muttering a playful insult or two before moving on. It stayed like this for the time that Heracles was there but he never complained as he only wanted to make sure that Kuro didn't end up dying on him. And he knew his decision to stay was correct when Kuro randomly became light headed or began spitting up more blood at the most inconvenient times.

Yes he still had the question of where Kiku was but at this moment he could only convince himself that he was somewhere else and safe.

Heracles had left at the end of the fifth day and returned home. It was about two weeks afterwards that he learned of who exactly Kuro was. Though he had learned through seeped information as whenever he questioned Kiku about it he would either change the subject or receive a vague answer, he did find out about the fights going on between both Kiku and Kuro and the reasons for the wounds that Kuro had been suffering from.

He didn't find out much past that but always had a feeling that Kuro was nearby and, in a way, he was. But after a while he just seemed to forget as things had gotten back to as normal as they possibly could, and his time had been spent doing other things of importance instead of wondering about the past.

But now here he was again, with Kuro in a similar situation as before though under much different circumstances. He could only wonder what Kuro had done to get onto everybody's bad side, it definitely had to be bad if he had been tied up. And the wounds that he had previously sustained brought up even more questions, along with the burn marks that were exposed yet barely.

"I remember you because of how stubborn you are." Heracles commented as he closed up the medical kit. He stood up and moved in front of Kuro.

"What did you do to piss everyone off?" He questioned, eying the binds.

"It's a long story..." Kuro replied back in a hushed tone.

"Well we have plenty of time."

The three had been rushed the second Lukas had been knocked out with a strong hit the back of the head. Their time had depleted quickly and with assistance of the car alarm people were obviously being alerted. Before they had the perfect chance to get away with everything thanks to the unintentional distraction near the front of the airport, but now people were starting to catch on that something wasn't right and that cut the few minutes they had in half.

Dragging Lukas to the van was more of a hassle then suspected. They had to stay on their toes and whenever someone got close they ducked down and tried to hide as best they could. It was hard and time consuming, which was the one resource they were extremely low on. Once they finally got back to the van they tied Lukas up and left him in the back with Leonardo who needed to make sure that their new prisoner didn't try anything.

The drive back took less time then they had planned but it was just enough time for them to hear two reports on the radio. One was about the assault at the airport in the parking lot, followed by the situation that had unfolded itself near the front.

Then second report was one on multiple missing rangers that had gone out to investigate a suspected explosive discharge and never returned or reported in.

This was a bit nerve wracking as it meant that people were slowly starting to catch up on what they had done. If they were to get information on suspects, though it wasn't likely, it could either hurt them or play in their favor depending on how stupid the police force was.

They arrived back to their base without much of an issue and Luciano was pleased when he saw them drag Lukas, who was now conscious, through the house and into the cell so he could join Feliciano. He did put up a bit of a struggle and they had to pop him in the gut once or twice until they managed to get him locked up. They decided to leave him restrained and if Feliciano were to decide to let him out then he could.

. . .

Feliciano had been awake at that time and was able to watch most of the struggle go down. He was hiding as expected and was still pained from the earlier encounter with the two-ps after being shot multiple times in a period of three hours. He ended up leaving both shocked and scared for his life. He knew that they weren't afraid to hurt him, but he was still debating whether or not they were willing to kill him. It seemed like something they would be prone to do especially with the constant threats, but he couldn't help but wonder.

They had thrown Lukas in and then slammed the door shut, locking it again and leaving it as is. Feli was unsure what he should do as he hadn't expected for them to capture someone else, but he had definitely put up a fight if anything. He had crawled over on his hands, refusing to use his feet and risk further wounds, and first checked to see if Lukas was awake.

He knew the answer when he was met with ice cold eyes. He almost fell back out of shock but held in a yelp and moved towards his hands which were restrained behind his back. He started to untie the knot but found it to be skillfully put together and he often lost grip of it and was forced to start over again. This was irritating for the both of them but he was eventually able to break the bind and moved away to give Lukas his needed space as he untied his feet which was a much quicker process.

Once he was freed the two stared at each other for a moment. Lukas noted in his head that Arthur had said someone was in trouble and in dire need of help. He could now safely say that Feliciano was that one person, and if he wasn't then he was stumped.

"So... they got you too?" The Italian finally asked after a brief moment of silence.

"It would seem." Lukas replied back, taking a quick glance at the room. "Smells like dritt in here." The other agreed.

"How long have you been held up in here?"

"Non lo so. I can't tell the difference between night and day most of the time."

"That's understandable."

"You're not safe here."

"I figured as much."

"We have to get out."

"Don't worry." Lukas started. "This'll be over soon."

Elláda = Greece (Greek)

Dritt = Shit (Norwegian)

Non lo so = I do not know (Italian)

A/N: Well this took f**ping long enough. I keep getting hurt damn it! At Martial Arts I bruised my wrist and my elbow really bad. I couldn't bend my writing arm for a few days and I could barely move my wrist too. Then once I finally got a chance to write I couldn't come up with shite for this chapter and my dad decided to put me in a bunch of activities. Combine all this with laziness and lack of encouragement, and then this ends up taking freakin forever.

Plus I had to keep rewriting a few of the scenes. Do you know how hard it is for me to not write suggestive material about a pairing that like only three people actually ship (myself being one of them).

*sigh

It was hard.

But on another note I'm planning to end this story soon. Not sure how soon but it will be soon. There might be four or five more chapters before it finally ends which I am rather excited about. But then again that's only if everything goes as planned.