Metamorphosis - Acceptance
xXx
Previously:
Tears trailed from his eyes, and his chest heaved as it was racked with constant sobbing. He covered his mouth at the disbelief that still dwell deep in his heart... But he knew for certain that this was his own ill doing. That voice-that demon! ... It had possessed him! How dare he!? How dare he!?
Italy beat his free hand against his own knee out of rage, enough so where a huge bruise had formed. But that conflicted pain was nonexistent, it was nothing compared to what now shredded his heart and feelings. He continued to cry out in misery, not able to face what had once been one of his best friends. It was his fault that this had happened! His! How could he ever stand to live with himself...? Germany had been his friend...
;~;
Everything outside of the traditional Japanese home had a faded grey hue, from the ground to the trees to the sky. Kiku sighed as he gazed through the open door. The tatami walls were very thin, allowing sounds of nature to fill their ears as the two sipped matcha tea.
Arthur Kirkland held his cup with a steady hand and smiled, sighing due to the tranquil silence. He was seemingly oblivious to the man in front of him. Something felt off; unease dwelled within Kiku's stomach. There had been no word from Germany in the four days that England had been visiting his house. Despite the fact that they had promised to discuss their upcoming meeting, he had received no phone calls -nothing at all…
"It's almost as if I never left Britain…" Arthur's words pulled Kiku out of the reverie his mind had succumbed to. "Mmmm… Yes; it is almost like a home away from home." He laughed and finally allowed his cup to settle on the smooth surface of the kotatsu table, having finished the beverage. The blonde looked up at his friend with concerned eyes, his brow furrowing with each passing second. "Tell me. What is bothering you so?"
"Whatever do you mean?" Japan frowned in mock confusion.
"Do not lie. I can tell that something is deeply troubling you." Kiku averted his eyes, pondering whether he should discuss this with his non-Axis friend. He did admit that he was extremely worried for his two companions. Northern Italy had been behaving in a perplexing fashion for the past three weeks, but something happening out of the ordinary had yet to occur. Was it so much a threatening ordeal to consult with England over it? For all of the years that Japan had known him, Britain had treated their personal friendship as something completely separate than that of his relationship with the Allies. So what would be the harm in sharing this internal conflict of his with a long time friend? And even if this newfound concern was somehow leaked, what would it hurt for the other countries to know?
"If it means that much to you…" At hearing this England perked up. He had never expected him to give in so easily. The Briton's eyes widened in mild surprise and disbelief.
"Well, only if you are willing to do so…"
"Yes… Ano… Where to begin…?" Kiku placed his hands in his lap and shifted awkwardly on his zabuton. "Well, I first noticed it three weeks ago, during the meeting held in Paris." England nodded in understanding, allowing his friend to continue speaking without interruption. "Before the conference could even begin, I happened to see North Italy-san outside the meeting hall. He appeared quite disheveled, clothes misplaced and nervously running his hands through his hair. However, that was not the only thing that intrigued me. Italy-san was… talking to someone. At first, I presumed that he was having a rather serious discussion with his boss or older brother. But… as I moved closer, I saw that he was indeed speaking to someone, that person being himself." Now, this really caught Arthur's attention. "As to be expected, I became concerned for my friend's wellbeing. I had full intentions to immediately share this information with Germany-san, but I never had the chance to do so. The same goes for Romano-san, and I was also afraid he would refuse to cooperate with me…"
"Would he not listen for the sake of his brother's own health? If not for their personal relationship, then at least for the state of Italy's government as a whole?"
"One would certainly hope so, but as I said before… I was never given the chance. Last Wednesday evening, I received a call from Germany-san at about noon. He reported to me that Italy-san would be arriving that evening in order to assist him with a chore. Once finished, he would relay to me information pertaining to our next meeting. It was during this phone call that I planned to notify him about how worried I was and remain to be. However, he had another urgent call on the line to attend to."
"I see." Britain leaned back as his friend finished. "And, you have not received word from him since?"
"That is correct." England then grumbled to himself.
"Well, that is indeed troubling. We have no other than to investigate further." Hearing this alarmed Japan.
"You intend to suddenly pursue this point of interest so suddenly? But, you just heard me speak of it! To travel to Germany out of the blue is a bit rash…!"
"You do not wish for your friend's mental state to grow worse. We have perfectly logical reason to go! You and I should leave as soon as possible." He stood and immediately began booking tickets on his phone for the two of them while Japan could only sit there bewildered. "Here; you will be needing this for the weather." Arthur threw at him his favorite coat, a khaki material with a lined hood made out of teal plaid fabric and faux fur on the inside. He just barely managed to catch it and sighed from what would be yet to follow. "Japan, are you coming?"
"Hai. Just give me a moment to text Romano-san." Kiku pulled out his cellphone.
"Hurry, or else we will miss our flight!" He was already with an umbrella and out the door.
"Soushin!"
;~;
"Who... are you?" The words struggled to breach his lips. His tears, however, flowed like a natural current, blinding him periodically. He choked on guilt as it continuously clogged his esophagus along with the previously accumulated bile. Feliciano had thrown up so many times already, having made himself sick. He heaved, attempting to catch his breath. Who would not feel this way after murdering their best friend?
The silence Italy received in return stoked the already blazing fire in the furnace of his rage. He slammed the toilet seat down in anger, standing up and flushing as he did so. Immediately, he washed his hands, spreading the soap as he went. He first started at his palms, eventually working his way up to his forearms. Italy needed rid of it...! All of it- All of it gone! Every last bit of his suffering, every bit of his pain! The grime had to be washed away!
He grabbed a clean wash cloth and scrubbed furiously at his skin, rubbing it raw. Once finished, he looked down at his work. Now pink and red from harsh treatment, his hands tossed the rag in the bin, stained with remnants of Germany's blood. Gone. Good riddance. Once more, Feliciano placed his hands in the water; he brought it up to his face in order to calm himself down. However, when he then looked at himself in the mirror, his rage returned at full force. As water ran down his cheeks, he touched the frigid mirror. His reflection glared at him as his voice once again returned.
"Answer me. Just who are you? What do you exactly wish to accomplish from this? Germany was someone dear to me,... so how dare you do this to him!" To his surprise and horror, this time a voice answered him in return.
'Do you really want to know, Venezia, what I am? Consciousness... Inner thoughts... I go by many names.'
"But, why? Why my friend? What did he ever do to deserve this from you!?"
'You mean,... "What did he ever do to us?"... Have you forgotten the days of our past? He, along with countless others, have ridiculed us. They hold no regard for our feelings. They treat us as if we are helpless, as if we are not strong in our own right. For years, Italy has been rich with wealth. We have been the victors of war and conquered those beneath us. We are a respectable warrior with centuries of experience. What right do others have to look down upon us?'
"But, I had forgiven him. I did not mind the way he treated me because I knew in my heart that he was my companion and friend. I would always have his trust no matter what."
'However, in the furthest depths of your mind, you had considered being rid of him.'
'No..." Italy denied the voice's claims.
'You wanted him dead.'
"Never!"
'You enjoyed the sight of his lifeless corpse resting on the carpet!' For a single second, his reflection harbored a sinister grin.
"Shut the **** up!" Veneziano smashed the mirror, shards raining down onto the counter. The voice faded away, and the country could only stand there and weep.
;~;
As soon as they stepped outside Japan's house, England had immediately called them a taxi, intending to travel as fast as possible from Tokyo to Berlin. The trip to the airport was surprisingly quick. However, when Arthur set foot through the rotating doors and into the terminal, his cellphone buzzed.
"Hello?" Japan stopped to wait on his friend, watching the Englishman's expression change as the conversation he was having continued. "Do not tell me that you are serious." Arthur ran a hand through his hair and released an exasperated sigh. "I do not have time for this! Why, yes! This is a highly serious matter, far superior to that of your constant mistakes…! I know that this will be detrimental to our schedule, but-!" There was a brief pause. "Fine; I understand. I will be there as soon as possible." With that said, he ended the call and turned to Japan. "I am terribly sorry, but it seems that my boss' actions decided to muddle our plans. He expects me heading home on the next flight. Bloody useless that git is…" At this, Kiku smiled.
"It was a generous offer, Arthur-san, but your own nation is of greater importance. Thank you for the gesture." He bowed his head in thanks. England allowed a thin smile to permeate from beneath his usually serious façade, waving his hand absently at the short Japanese man.
"Kiku, you are much too forgiving, but still… thank you, my friend."
;~;
"I suppose that… I should clean up this mess…" Veneziano halted in the bathroom doorway, his head lowered in guilt and a tremor in his voice. He rested his hand on the doorknob, hesitant to encounter his previous actions. In the next room, the evidence remained, and as if possessed he allowed for his legs to guide him there. Rage lay dormant within his veins, and his body shook at the sight. Finally regaining some semblance of self-control, Italy knelt next to the deceased nation, just out of the blood's reach. Reaching out, the brunette gently closed Germany's stilled eye lids. He choked back yet another sob as he said a prayer for what once had been his friend. Veneziano released a shaky breath.
A sudden ringing of the doorbell caused him to jolt, and his body was quickly consumed by panic. Italy completely lowered himself to the floor, glancing up from where he now lay on his stomach. His best option was to keep low and hope that the person would eventually leave. After two minutes of waiting, it appeared that they had finally given up; he sighed in relief.
What he did not account for was them knowing the location of Germany's spare key… The doorknob rattled with movement, a shifting of the lock. With the turn of the deadbolt, Veneziano made his next decision. Grabbing one of Germany's prized rifles from where it had been displayed on the nearby wall, he moved to hide behind the door. A small creak reverberated in the air, and the nation held his breath. A foot entered the home as all went silent. As the stranger's head became visible and an opportune moment presented itself, Northern Italy took his chance. However, as he brought the rifle down with brunt force, the butt jabbing sharply into the individual's neck, his victim met his gaze. "Italy-sa-!?" With a sickening thud, the body descended to earth, and it was upon closer inspection that Italy truly saw his face. Japan… The brunette panted from exertion, a fresh set of tears threatening to fall. Choking on his own breath, his hand swept through his own hair. He felt so empty inside… What had he done? Germany and now Japan… Kiku had seen his face and the crime scene and would know that he was guilty. The Japanese man would easily put two and two together. He would know that Italy was a murderer. There was only one obvious solution… Japan had to die.
Veneziano's hand covered his own mouth, strangling a ragged gasp. Closing his eyes, he tried to calm himself down.
"If you're going to do it, you better make it soon." A voice startled him. His head whipped to the left, where… Romano stood?
"Fratello!?" His eyes grew wide. "I-! This-!"
"The door was open, so I let myself in." Said door was released from Southern Italy's grasp as he approached his younger brother. Kneeling, he grabbed Italy's hands, taking them into his. "You need to calm down. Slow your breathing for me." He placed a hand on his back, rubbing large circles. Romano was eerily calm about this entire situation. Why did he behave as if he knew this would occur? Veneziano allowed his eyes to slowly drift back up to his brother.
"Fratello, how did you know I-?"
"I've been watching you for the past few weeks and I started to notice the signs. You didn't come home last night, so I assumed that something like this had happened..."
"But still-!"
"It's happened to me as well." All of Italy's attempts to speak stalled. "I have heard the voice for years now, and sometimes it can be very… persuasive. I knew that one day it would happen to you too. My own voice warned me of it, but I chose to ignore him. He told me of the curse our family bears, the hatred from centuries ago lying deep within us."
"Hatred?"
"Why do you think that Grandpa disappeared? It was due to this **** thing! He chose to fight it as best as he could, but it was inevitably his downfall. Even grandpa had no idea where it came from…" There was a long, awkward silence that followed his words.
"You knew…" His voice came out as a harsh whisper, hints of betrayal rising to the surface. "How could you not tell me about something like this!?" Here he was crying again for the umpteenth time that day; it was making him sick.
"I really hoped that I would not need to, but we've both seen how that has turned out…"
"How are you able to control it? If you had not told me, I would have never guessed."
"I never can fully evade its influence; sometimes I give into what it wants. And before you ask, Veneziano, I don't go out and murder innocent people." Northern Italy's mouth closed once more. "It's not something I'm proud of, but occasionally I hunt down targets for the Mafioso."
"Fratello!"
"All those that I kill are murderers, so get off my back!" The youngest Italian brother flinched back at Romano's outburst, but then Southern Italy's voice suddenly grew soft. "I was trying to protect you. I prayed to God that you would never find out…" It was quiet once more before Veneziano spoke.
"Please, Romano,… tell me everything you know…" With a sigh, his brother complied to his wishes. He explained further, telling him all of his knowledge of the voice, the way that it appears in the darkest times of one's history, when a nation's anger eventually rises to a boil. "Then why did it come to me now?"
"My only guess is that it appeared due to pent up emotions." He looked at Veneziano. "Be honest with me."
"Well,… I suppose there are times that I think of such things… I mean I can't help but let my mind wander before I go to sleep! It's like it doesn't want me to forget the past…" The awkward silence was interrupted by barely audible groaning. Both of the brothers gasped and stood up.
"Come on; we have to be quick." Romano began searching the kitchen drawers but paused as he noticed Italy frozen. "Oi! Venezia!"t The Northern Italian jolted to attention and finally came over to South. "Help me find a knife. We don't have time to be ****ing around!" Feliciano begrudgingly followed along with his wishes.
;~;
Italy could still feel the blood on his hands, the feeling of ending one's life, of ending both of his friends' lives. The drive to the next world meeting was nerve wracking. He knew that they had hid the bodies well. He knew and yet… something still felt off. However, his subconscious put him at ease, reassured him of his guilt and inner troubles. He could pretend, pretend that he had no clue of what it felt like to see another country's life source leave their body for the last time.
Veneziano sighed, leaning his head on his hand and shifting on the genuine Italian leather of his convertible. The top remained closed due to the bitterly cold weather, and he allowed the gentle purr of his vehicle to calm him. Noticing that the light had turned to green, Italy drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and floored it.
;~;
Southern Italy tapped his foot in anticipation, checking his watch every few seconds. "Where the **** is that idiota!?" He growled in frustration. The majority of nations were already present; his brother was running late. This was not anything unusual. In truth, he was more concerned that Italy would crack under pressure. It did not take a genius to realize that two members of the Axis were missing.
"Hey, Lovi, are you sure you're alright?" The Spaniard beside Romano persisted in annoying him.
"I already said that I am fine. Now, back the **** off!" He returned to taping his foot even more rapidly. "Veneziano, I swear…"
;~;
When the personification of Northern Italy finally arrived, the conference was in a state of anarchy. Numerous countries were scattered across the room, some wishing to remain out of the heated discussion at hand. A select few had gathered into a jumbled circle, attempting to solve the mystery that was the disappearance of Germany and Japan. Upon the first sighting of Italy, everyone froze and stared at him.
"Wha- What's going on…?"
"We were hoping you could tell us, mon ami. You are but the only Axis member still present. Do you have any idea, any clue at all, of Allemagne and Japon's location?" France appeared from the masses.
"What do you mean? They're not here already? Couldn't they just be running late. You never know. Maybe they were held up by their bosses."
"Even if that were true, never in my life have I known either one of them to be late."
"Seriously, dude, you have no clue!?" America was clearly upset.
"No, I haven't spoken to them at all this weekend… My boss was forcing me to catch up on tons of papers that needed to be signed."
"How do we know that he's not lying!?"
"Really, Amérique!? This is Italie we are talking about!" For a second, anger burned at Italy's throat.
"I can testify on my brother's behalf." Everyone gasped as Romano raised his hand to further gather their attention. "For the entire time, I was with him. He didn't leave the house."
"Well, that rules out Italie…" France was now both relieved and more frustrated at the same time. "Come to think of it, where is Angleterre?"
"England actually told me that he was staying at Japan's place this past weekend. Man, you don't think that he would-…!?" the United States of America gripped his hair as a wave of panic consumed him.
"Don't go jumping to conclusions-aru." China placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We should just wait for him to-."
"Maybe he killed the two Axis members in cold blood and then went on the run." Russia grinned as he provided his own thoughts.
"Why do you immediately assume that he has gone on a killing spree-aru!?"
"Let us think rationally here. What motive would Angleterre have to commit such a heinous crime? ****, we do not even know if there is one to being with."
"How could England do something that sick!? You've gotta be kiddin' me!"
"Amérique, are you really taking this seriously!?" Amidst the chaos that ensued, the Italian brothers shared frantic thoughts. England would know that they had been lying through their teeth. He could be aware of the fact that Japan had went to Germany's house. They would not allow such a risk. England would have to be dealt with.
'I see that you have finally come to terms with the inevitable. Well done, Venezia. I knew that I could trust in you, have faith in your ultimate judgement. I am so proud…' The whisper no longer surprised him. He grimaced slightly as he realized that he had grown accustomed to it.
'I'm already this far deep. What else do I have to lose…? Just… tell me what I must do.'
'Good; now, listen closely. I want his death to appear as natural as possible. Poison him with the drink he is provided and watch as he withers and decays. Your brother should harbor the substance you so desire. He will know of how to do it without being caught. Talk to Romano during the next break period and fill him in on the plan.' A slam of the door dispelled all sense of chatter. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Britain's clothing was disheveled, a lone satchel grasped in his hand.
"Forgive me… for… being… late!" He managed to wheeze out between gasps. It was at this moment that the other countries jumped on him with inquiries of the absent Axis members. However, his response was nowhere near what Italy and Romano expected. "I am terribly sorry, but I have no answer to their whereabouts. My staying with Japan was canceled due to unforeseen complications concerning work."
"Alright then… Regardless of their absence, we still have a meeting to uphold. We will continue this conversation at a later time." France released a defeated sigh as he had said this, and everyone took their designated seats in response. For now, the Italian brothers breathed easy, but for what they did not notice was the fevered glances that England sent in their direction.
;~;
When a nation dies, they never truly die, not until their very last citizen has perished. However, when and if their vessel is destroyed, all memory of their past life will vanish upon rebirth. This was common knowledge among nations. This was the one essential element that held together the Vargas brother's plan. It was also the one thought that came to England's mind when he discovered the body. No; it could no longer claim to be what it once was. No; now, it was a carcass, an empty shell left to fester in the sodden soil. It was no longer his friend, it was no longer Japan. He had been buried alongside the owner of the residence, the same man who he had not sent or received any phone calls to or from the Japanese man. Now, their promised conversation would never take place.
Anger conquered England's entire being. How dare Italy deprive them of a future. How could he have dared perform such an atrocious act!? On his friends no less… It was disgusting.
Southern Italy would know of Japan's fate as well, he realized. Upon the date of the next world meeting, Romano would be fully aware of what his younger brother had done.
;~;
Romano was going to strangle him. Before this was all over, Southern Italy swore that he would kill his younger brother. How could one person stand to be such an imbecile!? This entire plan was pointless! Feliciano had not even considered that England would not drink the poison. While he did agree with the notion of being discrete, anything would have been better than this! Romano had lost count of how many times that they had come close to reaching their goal. In every instance that Britain cam near to taking a sip from his laced tea, someone would pull him into a conversation or ask for his opinion on a particular matter. Romano groaned in annoyance. He had to be taken care of soon or this incident would never end. It seemed that now their only course of action was brute force. In his mind, the decision was made.
;~;
Once the meeting had reached its conclusion, all of the members gathered their materials and parted for their own countries. But a few lingered and among them were Southern and Northern Italy as well as the United Kingdom. Both of the Italies departed the conference room first, sleeking to a section of the hallway, where they could remain undetected. A few minutes later, England went to pass them. However, before he could escape, South grasped the sleeve of his tweed suit. In response, the blonde jumped.
"Oh, Romano! Thank god; it's just you… You nearly caused me to jump out of my skin."
"Hey, can we talk?" England raised an inquisitive eyebrow but stalled as he saw Italy peering over his brother's shoulder.
"Sure. Just tell me when and where."
"Now, preferably, if you have the time. We can use a room nearby. They should be empty for the next hour."
"That should be fine." He nodded. "Lead the way." As planned, the three countries went to a spare room down the hall. Upon reaching it, they allowed England to venture in first soon followed by Romano then finally Italy. Veneziano silently closed and locked the door, resting on it and crossing his arms afterwards. "It's quite dark in here. Are you not going to turn on the lights?"
"That won't be necessary."
"If they are not working, I happen to have a spare torch with-…" Where he had been rifling through his jacket pockets, his words soon died off upon the reveal of Romano's blade. It was a large pocket knife with a deep umber handle, black in the darkness of the room. "What are you-!?"
"I think you already know why we are here…" South inspected the weapon in his hand, testing its weight while gazing at its sharpened edge. "You know that Feliciano murdered them. Why else would you be late for such an important meeting? You went snooping around, sticking your nose in others business when you shouldn't have."
"I… I still have no-!"
"You have always been a terrible liar, Britain. Don't deny it. Did you really believe that I wouldn't notice how badly you are trembling?" England involuntarily clenched his fists, attempting to mask his now obvious tremors. Romano smirked and chuckled. "You're so predictable, so dreadfully… boring." In that moment, Southern Italy pounced on his prey, immediately lunging for the Briton's chest or jugular. England gripped the brunette's arm, their struggle sending them tumbling to the floor. A battle cry. The rolling of bodies. Italy darts in to help his brother. More struggling. The gritting of teeth. A gasp of pain. Blood dripping, dripping onto the laminate floor. A slam. The door crashes into the wall. Searing light.
"England!" For a second, all motion stopped. America could be seen standing at the threshold until several more individuals pushed passed him.
"So it is true," whispered France, lowering his head and closing his eyes in order to calm his own temper. Russia and America managed to run over and yank the brothers from their hold on the British Isle.
"England, are you okay-aru? You are bleeding pretty badly…!" The blonde held his hand up to China, who now had England's arm draped over his own shoulder as they stood.
"Believe me; this is nothing. After all, I got what I came here for, so it was well worth it. A menial price to pay in exchange for such a reward…"
"What the **** are you going on about!?" Romano was snarling from the burly Russian's hold, a darkness lingering in his already wild eyes. "How the **** did you have any idea we were here!?" Britain chuckled.
"I am not the only one who is so predictable." And as if on que, France removed a couple of books from a nearby shelf. When one looked closer, they could see a single lens peeking out from the shadows. Southern Italy froze.
"****, **** you! **** you all!" He attempted to thrash out of his confines, but nothing would budge. "I'll kill you! I'll slaughter every last one of you!"
"Romano…" Out of the two non-Allies members present, Spain began to cry into his hand. "I… I always treated you as a younger brother, and this is how you repay me!? You, you and Italy both, should feel ashamed!" Tears were now cascading down the Spaniard's face.
"Like I give a **** about you!" Out of nowhere, Italy pulled a knife from his own pocket, slicing three of America's fingers off.
"****!" The American cried out as he clutched his now bleeding hand then gasped as Northern Italy went behind him and held the blade to his throat.
"Let my fratello go. Let us go and I don't kill him on the spot." The Allies made to move forward, so Italy pressed the knife so as to break skin. "Don't you dare… You know that I will do it." All whimpering had vanished from his voice, now terrifying in itself; instead, it remained steady, un-phased by his own actions and potential threat. "I swear that I will! I'll gladly-!" He was cut off as his own hands were suddenly pulled and harshly tied behind his back. America fell to the ground, panting and choking at the same time. Italy was gripped by the hair and slammed against the wall. A fist was delivered to his face, a strong knee to his stomach. The Italian coughed. Another punch. He looked up. Ruby eyes. At first, he was afraid, afraid that he saw a demon before him. However, it was far worse than he feared. It was the vengeful brother of the German he had killed.
"Stop! Anymore and he will die!" Spain rushed forward, pulling the albino's arms back.
"Maybe I vant him dead! Is it so wrong that I vant to see his face caved in!? For vhat he did, vhat that thing did to mein baby bruder, it's only right!"
"Please!" They were both sobbing as he finally managed to pull him away. Italy's face was already swollen, caked in blood, now black and blue from the harsh beating. For now, he was unconscious.
"It is not entirely their fault…" England spoke after a minute of quiet.
"Vhat the **** do you mean, 'It isn't their fault'!?" Prussia stormed over and practically shoved his own face in Britain's personal space.
"Sure. They did succumb to it in the end, but I believe that they fought it at first."
"England, bro, you're making like zero sense." China was wrapping America's hand.
"It's a demon, an ancient being that lead to the Roman empire's demise. Last night, I could not sleep after I saw-… Well, you know. But as I was saying, I decided to study my enchantment tomes when I discovered it, a passage foretelling of a curse shared between the members of Rome's immediate relations. How I had never came across such information before astounds me."
"Well, is there any possibility that we can do something about this dilemma?" France asked, a glimmer of hope present in his words.
"The death of the most recent lives of Germany and Japan cannot be undone, but I do, however, think we can present this from ever happening again." He pulled out a piece of white chalk and began etching markings on the floor. "I should be able to purify the core of their nation. It will take up a lot of mana, but I think that it may just be possible with all of your help."
"Us!?" A chorus of voices spoke in unison.
"Yes; indeed. Each person in fact holds at least a small portion of mana in their body. This only intensifies with us being nations. You may not have harnessed it, but I will still be able to channel the energy in order for the ritual to function properly."
"And this won't be a threat to any of our lives?" The Frenchman took a hesitant step backwards.
"None what so ever. The biggest threat is me passing out from exhaustion and the incantation failing, but don't worry. I will not allow that to happen." He stood from the circle and gestured to the Italian brothers. "Place them in the center, and we shall begin." It was easy for them to drag Northern Italy to the designated spot, but the same could not be said about Romano. South was forced while kicking and screaming. He fought as hard as he could but was unsuccessful in the end. Once they were in the correct position, England held out his injured and bloody forearm. He allowed the red liquid to drip onto the chalk, where it bubbled and steamed upon first contact. The blonde then held out his hands. "Link hands and form a ring to surround them." They did as they were told. "Now, repeat after me." Latin flooded from his lips, coaxing the circle to shimmer and glow an iridescent blue.
Screams. Screams tore from Southern Italy's throat. Blood curdling screams. The surrounding nations flinched in horror, but continued nevertheless. The light grew brighter. The demon clawed at its vessels, refusing to release its deep hold on their bodies. Where it was latched so strongly within each of them, it left destruction in the wake of its exorcism. Black could be seen flowing in the veins just below their skin. The dark liquid seeped into their sclera as the light reached its peak. At the climax of the ritual, an ensemble of piercing shrieks permeated the air, And then silence.
;~;
The sun shone, a beacon of light, and a warm breeze caused the wildflowers to perform their own cheerful dance. A young man stood in the large meadow, stretching his arms and inhaling. A gentle smile graced his features as he allowed the fresh air to fill his lungs. He sighed in relaxation of the beautiful day. Bright, warm, the embodiment of peace. Small fingers tugged on his striped shirt sleeve.
"Italy-chan, daijobu?" The Asian child peered up at him innocently, a small frown on his chubby face.
"Si… Si! I'm fine, Japan! You're so sweet to be concerned for me." Northern Italy knelt on the grass, absolutely beaming at the small boy before him. "I have an idea! Let's play a game. Would you like that?" Japan merely nodded.
"Please- Please let me join you as vell." A second voice surprised them both, but Italy smiled once more at the sight of the blonde German boy.
"Come over here, Ludwig." Germany complied and slowly stepped towards the brunette. When he stopped, Italy placed his hand on the little boy's head and playfully ruffled his hair. Germany blushed as Feliciano's eyes crinkled in amusement. "Germany, you know you never have to ask my permission for that, right?" That's right, because he deserved such kindness; Germany and Japan both did. The thought of three months ago still haunted Italy's mind. After the purification of both him and his brother, the entire experience felt like a distant blur, a dream, something that never happened to begin with. How could he have let himself do such a thing…? The thought puzzled him. England had explained that it wasn't their fault, that Northern and Southern Italy were just as much victims as Germany and Japan. But… was that really the case? Italy did not know. He immediately offered in return to help care for his newly reborn friends, to take them in, but he could not deny that the memories of three months ago still plagued his sleep.
Now, he would do everything in his power for Germany and Japan's wellbeing; that was the oath he took. Romano felt equally as guilty and expressed the sincerity of his apology in much the same way. This was the path that they chose to walk. No person or thing would ever puppet them again. Because… this was the road that they now walked, the legacy that they forged for themselves. Never looking back. Never again.
xXx
(A.N.) Has it really been almost two years since I started this story!? It doesn't feel like it has been THAT long! I'm so sorry. I meant to finish this up a long time ago, but school kept getting in the way. It also took me forever to properly map out the story and figure out how I wanted to conclude it. Hopefully, a long chapter makes up for it somewhat? This story was meant to be just for fun, but like always I over complicate things to an extreme. With having both Advanced Placement as well as Senior English, things had been hectic, and for that I am again EXTREMELY sorry. Things just kept getting in the way. However, now the story is finally over. How strange is that? I feel really weird after having finished the last page. I also think that I have came a long way with my grammar. At the beginning, I felt that I wasn't good enough, but now I have at least a little more confidence. In conclusion, I want to thank you for joining me on this wild ride and hope that you will check out my other stories that I have written on here as well.
Enough with my rambling… I also want to bring up something I have thought about for a while. I would really like to do a video dedicated to the readers. I am thinking that I will possibly read reviews I have received for this fic and finally answer them. That is why I implore you to send in any questions you have concerning this story! I would really like to do this sometime in the coming month, so any suggestions for the video are welcome. Simply list them along with your review.
Once again, thank you for following through with this story, and I look forward to seeing you all in my next work!
Sayonara,
~Ame-chan777