xxx
II.
xxx
He lies in a crumpled heap on the floor of a polished room, well-furnished to display the extent of his wealth and status. He stirs lightly, all while breathing shallowly so that his lungs may avoid the few broken ribs as much as possible. With his one good arm, he attempts to drag his body away from the scene, growing frantic at the click clack click clack approaching from across the floorboards. His efforts are put to an immediate halt with a rasping shout as a three-inch heel crushes his hand.
This predicament is more or less his fault, not only for the atrocities that he's been condemed of, but for also underestimating his opponent on the very fact that she is a woman.
"I will give you some credit though," she says while readjusting the top of her suit and wipes the blood away from the corner of her mouth. "For a high-hat, you can really take a hit."
She removes her heel from his hand and delivers a swift kick to his gut, throwing him against the wall and causing even more pain then truly necessary. From behind brown strands of hair falling into his eyes, a small amount of tears threaten to swell as he holds back another shout and glares up at the woman primping her own black locks back into place.
"Oh, don't look at me like that," she scolds. "It's not my fault you didn't grow up fighting like I did. I guess that's just another difference between the two of us, the social classes in which we grew up in, but to be perfectly honest, I find that particular difference to be slightly more aggravating than all of those in our political stances."
A low guttural sound comes out from the back of his throat. In a horse groan he's able to ask only, "Why?"
"Hm…" she sounds, leaning all of her weight onto one foot with both hands resting on her hips and her head tilted upwards in thought. "Is that a 'Why is it more aggravating?' or one of those cliché 'Why are you doing this?' questions?"
She shrugs. "Either way I suppose the answer is the same. The ending rant to both those subjects would sum up the feeling I have that you and I are not only members of opposing political parties, but also on opposing sides of what we think we should be doing with our careers."
She turns sharply to a darkened doorframe, half shadowing a learning figure bearing witness to the conversation with morbid amusement, and asks, "Isn't that right, sir?"
"Something like that," the shadowed figure replies. He straightens himself and removes himself away from the frame, revealing himself to the other male by nearing the two. He reaches into the inside of his suit jacket and pulls out a 9mm complete with silencer. He takes one of the woman's hands and presses it into her palm.
"Will you show me?" he asks her. "What you are willing to do in order to care for my well-being?"
She nods once, determined expression plastered across her face while clutching the weapon to her chest. She turns on her heel and points the barrel at her opponent's head. The other man's eyes widen, glossed over with fear and snaps them to the one standing behind her.
"I care," he croaks out at him. "I do- I've always-."
She pulls the trigger once, twice, three times and regards the corpse with a look of utter contempt.
-.-.-
Oh Yes, We All Give a Damn Now
-.-.-
"Y'know, I'm still kinda in shock over the whole thing. It feels like just yesterday you were telling me how happy you were to be starting a relationship with Ivan, and today I'm getting 2am phone calls from him asking if I still don't know any of the reasons behind the break-up."
America flips lazily through television stations while Matthew chatters away on the other end of the sofa. He slides his eyes over to his brother, whom in turn keeps his own eyes glued to the ever changing channels in their slowing pace.
"He's seriously bugging you about that?" America asks him. He sighs wearily and the channel surfing becomes more aggressive. "I gave him my reasons, he doesn't need to be bugging you or anyone else."
Matthew removes his stare away from his own television set, turning his head completely to give America his attention.
"About those reasons," he begins, "I don't think I would've really accepted them either. I mean, the two of you were dating for years, distance was never a problem before and if I remember right, you even said that because Ivan wasn't around so often, it made you want him even more."
America's hand pauses on the remote, taking the time to listen to Matthew's words before shrugging them off and continues as before.
"Even if I did," he tells his brother, "feelings change."
America's eyes slightly haze over at his own words and for a moment he's completely oblivious to his surroundings as his thoughts run rampant on the subject. Feelings change, people change, ideas change, everything changes. Sometimes for the better, mostly though for the worse. Though that's usually the player's fault, gambler's on a winning streak who don't know when to quit playing. These thoughts are only put to a stop by the sound of Matthew's voice.
"You're feelings changed?" Matthew asks, sounding particularly accusing. "And where did those feelings change to? Kiku, maybe?"
America promptly snaps his head in his brother's direction and curses himself for the reaction at the sight of the other blonde's rising eyebrows. He calmly sets the remote down on the coffee table and asks, "What does that mean?"
"Yong-Soo told me you spent almost an entire month with him a few weeks after the last conference. With that and your 'changed feelings' speech, anyone would put two and two together to come up with the same answer."
"Well 'anyone' failed math, 'cause that is not the right answer."
"So then what were you doing with Kiku?"
America opens his mouth to retort, but closes it once more almost instantly. It's not a difficult task in revealing to Matthew that his business had little to with Kiku and more to do with Japan, but in doing so it may cause further ruckus. That may or may not be a conclusion based on paranoia, yet either way America feels such information should be kept to himself for the time being. However, Matthew does not share that sentiment.
"Al?" he calls out.
"It doesn't matter what I tell you, you're gonna go ahead and believe whatever anyone else is saying, so what's the point?"
Matthew's eyebrows furrow together as he regards his brother. "Are you feelin' okay, Al?"
"Peachy," America grunts, causing his brother to sigh.
"I don't mean to sound like I'm attacking you or anything," Matthew mutters and shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "I'm pretty sure you're stressed enough with all the problems going on at your place-"
"Whoa, wait a minute," America interrupts. "What problems?"
Matthew grabs at the remote on the surface in front of them and switches to a news station America's become familiar with as of late.
"These problems," Matthew tells him just as another bulletin shows a multitude of politician's still missing before being wiped out to show another screen of those that have been found dead. "I do like to keep a regular tab on what goes on in the only country that borders mine. I would like to think you do the same."
America only gives him a sort of half shrug and resists the urge to ask him which country he is again.
Just as Matthew is about to scold him on the subject of being a responsible nation, a news alert flashes across the screen as the commentator informs those tuning in on the finds of a reported missing congressman's body being found.
"Another one?" Matthew questions aloud, clearly more attentive and concerned over the matter than the other blonde.
The two in a comfortable silence as a brief report is given on the situation before it's replaced with the image of a woman with dark hair black hair that had taken over the found congressman's position behind a podium and speaking on the subject herself. They then watch a brief question and answer segment that is only standard before she launches herself into a political tirade.
"I don't understand how this woman is in any position of power," Matthew comments. "She's a fanatic."
America hums in manner that is neither agreeable or disagreeable. "I'm not sure about that. I mean, I couldn't ask for a more patriotic child."
"Yeah, but have you been listening to what she says? It's as though every speech she gives is an ode to isolationism and people who define underhanded politics."
Matthew misses the small twitch that occurs in the corner of America's right away and honestly doesn't pay his brother the slightest bit of attention to him until he stands and announces his departure.
"Are you sure?" Matthew asks. "We haven't even gone out for lunch yet."
"I know, but with this recent development, I guess I should get back and see what's up, y'know?"
Matthew nods in agreement and stands as well, prepared to walk his brother to the door out of common courtesy. At the door, America turns back to his brother and with a smile tells him, "When you talk to Ivan about this later, please tell him that I didn't run out early just to avoid talking about him."
"I- What?" Matthew asks with an innocent air.
America looks at him pointedly and states, "You didn't let that subject drop for a second while I was here. I know it's normal and all to care as a brother, but even that's a little too much. You gonna tell me you didn't agree to play informant for him?"
Matthew isn't entirely sure whether he should feel impressed or somewhat annoyed. "Since when have you been able to read the atmosphere?"
"Since always," America replies with a small wink. "See you later, bro."
Matthew closes the door and makes sure to lock it after America takes his leave. He's not even a foot back into his living room before he reaches into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out his cell phone. He flops back onto the sofa, all but ignoring the television now as he searches his contacts. In a few moments, Kumajirou comes out of hiding and pads over to his owner, takes his time in climbing onto the sofa and then letting his head fall into Matthew's lap.
"And where were you all this time?" he asks the bear while the number dials. "You usually come out to sniff at Alfred to see if he has any snacks on him."
The bear doesn't give him any more than an upwards glace for a reply which Matthew accepts without question. The blonde tilts his head back against the couch and dazes up at the ceiling while the dial tone rings in his ear before it's picked up and a rushed question is thrown out at him in lieu of a greeting.
"Yeah, hi to you too, Ivan," he speaks into the receiver. "Alfred came over today, just left… Yeah, he said he was with him but they're not seeing each other or anything like that…"
His eyes stray away from the ceiling and back down to the screen. "I don't know, but I'm a little worried about him…"
..
..
..
..
..
Pale moonlight filters in through the elongated windows, reflecting off the white colored walls and being the only source of real illumination in the dark room.
A man stands in front of these windows, waiting, expecting. He hears the faint ticking of his watch working in sync with the beat of his heart and when the fatal sound of wood groaning under the weight of age resonates through the stillness, he allows a collected breath to spill from his lips while taking in the cool breeze that comes in through the open portal.
"When the Lamb opened the fourth seal," he quotes. "I heard the voice of the fourth living creature say, 'Come and see!'."
A shadowed figure enters the room, creeping in quietly without a sound. The heavy wood door creaks behind him as it closes and in a swift motion, the lock is secured.
"And now it's my turn," the man at the window continues to say. "Isn't that right?"
He slowly turns to face his fate, unable to make out the blue irises behind the glint of glass and grimaces at the smile he's seen day after day that parts only to say:
"Good evening, Mr. President."
xxx
-I feel like I should really think up a better summary. B/
-And OC's galoooore~! All these nameless officious looking government people are not real nor are they meant to represent real people. Just wanted to throw that out there...
-So yeah, next chapter: Time Jump! I think... not totally sure yet. All the same though, it's gonna come out on the 14th. ;D
-Btw, and this has absolutely no relevance at all to the fic but I just wanted you guys to know, the Sucker Punch soundtrack is my new love. -heart-
xxx
Hey, you! Yeah, you!
Check this link out: www. dailymotion video/xi1ax5_noise_videogames
xxx
Anonymous Reviews:
Em: Chabella still has a MySpace? You still have a MySpace? o.O
Sunshine: But-but-but.. Killjoys never die! D: I know, I'm horrible. I keep getting side tracked by this fic, I'll admit that, but the editing is coming along... Anyway, I think I should marry you, I think that'd be a good idea. :3 Oh, and pffft! It's just there for aesthetic reasons, nothing important about it at all. B)