Completed and updated for its "birthday"! Yay!
Thanks to Momoko A. Mak for reminding me :)
Also, the story is reaching its end, only two to four chapters left! Thank you for staying with me so far into the story!
Hetalia does not belong to me.
The light blinded the room in a silence so loud no one could even be heard gasping. It wasn't possible to distinguish anything from anything anymore or to catch the slightest noise. All they could all do was shiver from the cold air the light seemed to emit, and move the least in fear they would disturb the sacred ritual that was crossing worlds. If anyone were to ask, it was exactly how Hong Kong had always imagined death to be: an icy dulling of the senses.
However, the bath of light lasted less than a minute. After a brief explosion, a thick fog, similar to a cloud of snow after a blizzard quickly replaced it and suddenly, though no one could see the others, the sound of their breaths reminded of their presences.
They still dared not move or talk.
They were much too curious to the outcome to do that.
Hong Kong was the one to grab his courage in his hands. He reached out in front of himself, where he remembered the couch to be, and stretched his hand to its surface. His hand met the cushions.
"She…" he whispered, barely opening his mouth in surprise "She's gone."
It felt somehow empty in the island's heart. He himself wasn't too sure what to think. Even if they fought, they were friends, right? He should have been feeling sad then. But why wasn't he? Was the anger he felt towards England and Scotland for taking action without allowing him to say goodbye first hindering his sense of loss? That must have been it. Or else he would have been a crying mess at the moment. Yes, that was the only possible explanation.
But… If that was so, he would have been eager to punch the two and frankly, he didn't feel like even moving a finger.
"She's gone." He repeated, this time with a little more conviction.
That had been what he needed. To convince himself. Irene had always kind of been there the past days, it was hard to believe she wasn't anymore.
England on the other hand, lost no time into slapping his brother.
"I hope you're happy now." He snarled.
"What have you done to my beautiful face?" France whined "Why?"
"Oh. You're not Scotland." England noticed "Oh well, you deserved that anyway, frog."
"I'm on your left, not on your right." Scotland informed "And yes, I am satisfied by the fact you finally came to your senses. It was the right thing to do."
"But she's going to be miserable in her – Ugh!" groaned England "You know what? Nevermind. We're not having this argument again."
"Veee~ I'm gonna miss her." Italy cried
"Same." Iceland agreed "It's not every day you get a human friend like this huh? I seriously hope she'll find a place to belong back in her world."
"Awww… I'm glad you guys feel that way!" Irene's voice suddenly cooed.
…
"Wait – What?" England sputtered "But… You're…"
"I fell off the couch at the explosion you morons." Irene deadpanned "So if whoever's on top of me could stand back up it would help, my arm's not liking this."
Hong Kong came back to his senses straight away, an odd sigh of relief escaping him.
A loud thump resonated in the room as Irene pushed the person off.
"Oh." She gasped "I-I think he's dead."
Luckily, the fog was starting to clear. Hong Kong immediately kneeled besides her, freeing her last limb from the weight of the corpse look-alike. He couldn't help but notice how shaken Irene seemed to be… and how strange it was for her to come to the conclusion it just had to be a dead body.
"I think you may have messed up, my friend." France laughed "That boy is not a country but a human. You've just doubled the problem. Ah, he's waking up."
Irene relaxed a bit at the news.
"Irène?" the boy croaked.
And then she tensed again.
With the fog now gone, Irene could see the waking boy looking straight at her with unfocused eyes. He was small, probably around eight or nine years old, but appeared bigger with the huge layers of clothes he wore. His whole self was in a rather undesirable state: his blond hair was as messy as a bird's nest, his blue eyes puffy and red, his big shoes covered in dirt and his attire torn and white from snow.
"Irène! It is you!" the boy exclaimed in a fluent french, chopped only between sobs "I thought you died!" He ignored the others around and ran straight at the girl who remained sitting on the floor. He quickly wrapped his arms around her, glowing in joy.
On the other hand, Irene stayed paralyzed. She wasn't reciprocating the hug in anyways that was required in a long term reunion. Instead, she just sat there, pale as if she was being hugged by Winter itself.
And then she shoved him away.
"Don't come near me!" she screamed in french as she suddenly stood up "You're just another one of his traps, right? He took you from my memory right?"
"What are you talking about?" the boy whimpered in surprise "Why are you talking to me in engli – Oh. You're not Irène."
Irene took another step back "I'm Irene. You're not Adrien."
"Irène is ten." The boy reasoned, slightly disappointed "You're obviously older."
"No, Adrien should be twelve by now!" Irene hissed.
"And crossing dimensions and crossing time is very similar." England interrupted "Now I don't know what's really going on between you two but I think there's a simple explanation: I summoned Irene from the other world in a certain year and we summoned you from that same world a few years before that."
"I'm sorry." The boy apologized in heavily accented English "I can't understand what you're talking about."
"Wow… That actually explains a lot." Irene said, collapsing on the couch. She dropped her head between her hands and let out a long sigh before leaning against the backrest "Just give me a minute. I'm being saturated with thoughts."
"So… this is Irène?" the boy asked, pointing at her.
Iceland nodded and smiled a little "And you must be Adrien. I heard a lot about you, though I imagined you to be older… and Irene's boyfriend."
Adrien gagged "She's my sister! Ugh… Just, no. I need brain bleach. Oh, where am I?"
"In Norway." Iceland answered.
"But I was in Switzerland five seconds ago." Adrien frowned "What happened?"
"You were saved." Irene answered, apparently having managed to sort out her mind.
"By who?" the boy asked.
"By England." Irene answered, catching said country's attention "Or Arthur. It may sound crazy but this is another world in which every country is represented by a person. Anyways, he summoned you sometime after we were separated, four years ag – or in your case, a few minutes ago."
Adrien nodded taking everything in. And then he frowned again.
"Wait, but if I was summoned here… Then who called help for you and mom?" Adrien asked, worried. "Who saved dad? What happened when no one found me?"
Irene bit her lower lip "Adrien, I want you to listen to me very carefully, okay?" the boy nodded in silence "Right. First of all, concerning dad… People don't just survive after being swallowed so violently by an avalanche." Irene couldn't bring herself to look into her brother's eyes as she continued "And for mom, well… There's a reason why I, not her, asked you to go get help when we both fell… She cushioned my fall with her body…"
Adrien stared back at her blankly, seemingly unable to process what she had just said. "They're… dead?" he asked "But they can't be…"
Irene gave her brother a sad smile and a warm hug. She mouthed a small 'Thank you' towards England before burying her face in Adrien's shoulder.
"It's fine." She reassured "I'm probably not the most responsible person you know, but I'll find a way to take care of you."
Scotland grit his teeth at the touching sibling moment. He gave a last look of anger at his brother before turning on his heels and leaving towards the basement.
"Wow… He looks happy I stayed." Irene laughed, unable to suppress a smile.
"Please don't think bad of him." England asked apologetically "He's being the responsible one. None of us want you to be miserable Irene, he just knows there's more at stake than your happiness."
As Scotland's footsteps grew dim, another set of footsteps closed up, running up a staircase before its owner presented himself in the room, arm in a sling and blood trickling from his forehead.
Immediately, Irene stopped embracing her brother and shot up, running to the man.
"Oh God Russia! What happened? I thought you were in the base – Ugh…" The blood in her body rushed to her head before she could finish and caused her to collapse in the Russian's healthy arm. "Sorry, I guess I'm still a bit light-headed."
"Don't move around so much, da?" he smiled "Canada may have bandaged you perfectly well but you're still missing a lot of blood." He turned to a confused Adrien and nodded curtly "Scotland has hastily debriefed me of who you are. Nice to meet you, please call me Ivan if you cannot get used to us being countries. Otherwise, I'm Russia."
Adrien, though obviously intimidated by the man's height and still in shock managed a small nod. "A-Adrien."
"What happened to you Russia?" Irene asked again.
"Don't worry; I'm pretty well off compared to others." Russia chuckled "General Winter did a number on us before escaping. Luckily, we managed to all make it here safely… However… It seems we're more than just under siege. Winter is becoming more and more aggressive by the second."
Irene bit her lips. How powerful was the General? To think he could injure countries to such extent… And only because they were protecting her. If only she was strong enough to take him on without involving further people. She was tired of being protected all the time! Wasn't that why she had tried learning to use a gun?
Irene glanced at her brother who just looked at the floor, pale and crying.
There was no way she could just die and let him fend off the world by himself. She wouldn't attempt at her own life again, not after the impression pointing a gun at herself had left on her. However, if she could find a way to grant her power, she would be able to isolate herself and Winter and keep the fight away from others until she found a solution. Power. The girl felt like such a stereotyped villain thinking like that but it made sense.
How could she…?
…
How had Kiev gotten her hands on magic?
Romania had mentioned something about all countries worshipping magic in the past, but there was something more…
Of course!
How had she not thought about it?
Prussia.
He was the way. Hadn't he survived many deaths? Hadn't he been the only one to truly know what had happened to Kiev? Irene couldn't tell why but she just knew he was the man to ask.
If her mom managed to make a deal with him, surely enough she could.
Norway's basement was for some reason or another twice the size of his house. It was no wonder it had been chosen as some sort of emergency room for all the nations who were injured.
All the desks and bookshelves had been pushed to the naked cream colored walls to guarantee space for the wounded to lie down. The wooden floor was partially covered in what looked like all the sheets and towels they had managed to gather as not too taint the whole floor red.
It basically looked like the only refuge left for mankind's last survivors after a fight against an army of angry fan girls.
Though to Irene's greatest relief, no one seemed in mortal danger or even passed out. Some like America and Finland were even joking about the huge gashes on their limbs, comparing them to rivers or such. However, the girl knew their indifference towards pain only came from much more agonizing past sufferings. They were used to it. It was hard to picture them at their most physically hurt point because every time she pictured the goriest scene she could, Irene had a feeling it wasn't gore enough to even come close to what they had gone through.
She quickly diverted her thoughts by spotting Prussia who was poking one of his brother's bruises. The albino wasn't particularly hurt. He actually looked perfectly fine except for his more than usually ruffled clothes. On the other hand, Germany who was sitting next to him looked like a soldier coming back from the bloodiest battlefield that had ever existed.
"Hey Prussia." The girl called, heading over to the two siblings.
Germany eyed her wearily "Shouldn't you be resting? A human shouldn't stand up after having lost such quantities of blood."
So even Germany wanted her to stand down? Not a chance. "I convinced the others to let me help searching through Norway's books." Irene answered "But I need to talk to Prussia first."
"Haha… No." Prussia deadpanned.
"What? You didn't even hear me out!" Irene cried, taking a sit in front of the two brothers.
Prussia sighed "Yeah but I can kinda guess where you're going."
Germany raised his brow.
"What are you talking about?" he asked.
Prussia just shrugged off his brother's answer "Nothing."
Irene grinned. She knew just what to do to be heard and from Prussia's horrified expression, she also knew he had guessed her plan.
"We're talking about your brother's secret. You know, the reason he knew so much about Kiev's death and the whole parallel world thing and-"
Before she could finish, the albino had clasped his hand on her mouth.
"Let's have that little talk, shall we?" he smiled.
"Sure Prussia," she grinned "I didn't know you were so eager to talk to me."
The two found a discreet place to talk, right between two bookshelves, and resumed their 'little talk'.
"I need to make a deal with you." Irene explained.
"And the answer is no." insisted Prussia "It's too dangerous, never worth it and you're human for God's sake."
"Does that really change anything?" Irene asked.
"It changes the fact that adding a single day to your life is the equivalent of adding ten to twenty years for a country." Prussia answered "Kiev asked for a single week and that was already the maximum I could do."
"But I don't want an additional day." Irene frowned.
"In that case, I really can't help you." Prussia answered, looking relieved "I can only deal with death."
But I can.
"Whoa, Winter?" Irene exclaimed upon hearing the voice. It seemed different from the one that had been haunting her dreams, it was warmer though much more monotonous.
"Irene, are you okay?" Prussia asked.
"Did you not hear – okay you didn't hear." The girl muttered "I think the blood loss is getting to my head."
Calm down you idiot. And think your answers.
…Like this? Does it work? Irene thought.
Yes.
HOLY SHIT STOP INVADING MY THOUGHTS AND MY PRIVACY YOU PERVERTED FREAK! GET AWAY, GET AWAY!
"Uhm, Irene?" Prussia repeated.
"You know what, I'll go lie down on the couch for a while." Irene dismissed "And I think your brother's stitched still need a bit of work so I'll leave that to you."
The girl hastened her step, trying to ignore her head who in fact was actually completely disoriented. She thought of going where she had said she would but promptly changed her mind. She needed somewhere void of people, which wasn't easy to find in a place full of countries.
Turn left here. The voice suddenly instructed as she climbed up the stairs towards the living room where the couch awaited her return.
There's a wall on my left! She mentally hissed. Oh, hey, looks like I can actually put emotion in my voice! I thought I sounded dead like you for a moment.
There, on that brick wall in front of you. The voice replied. If you look at the top, there's a small fissure. Make sure no one's near the staircase and then push on the wall over the fissure. There will be a small rope ladder that will fall. Climb it and reel it back in, the wall will close with the help of the rope once you're inside.
Irene did just that, surprised to find exactly what the voice had predicted she would. Truthfully, she had no idea why she even bothered listening to it. It was most likely General Winter trying to deceive her into coming outside after all. However, there was something in that voice that inspired trust, a sort of familiar vibe that came from it.
Climbing wasn't an easy task, especially not with her arm in the state it was, but Irene pulled through nonetheless. It wasn't too high up anyways, just the height of the wall.
Inside was a small study, buried under a mass of scribbled sheets and opened books. It was probably a hidden attic of the house in which Norway did his research… or stayed holed up in for hours. Despite its claustrophobic triggering size, the small room was actually one of the coziest places Irene had ever seen. It was full of light thanks to the window on the slated ceiling, held the most cloud-like armchair that existed on earth and was at a perfect lukewarm temperature. Norway, or whoever had made that room had instantly become Irene's favorite interior designer.
"Irene!" the voice called. It hadn't sounded in her ear this time but from the room, as if the speaker was trapped.
The girl followed the muffled sound to the desk, ending up right in front of a drawer. The speaker couldn't be a dwarf could he? He probably couldn't fit in the tiny drawer. However, that was where the voice came from.
Feeling stupid for even checking, Irene opened the drawer.
Inside was a bunch of paper (as if the room needed any more of that), an old-fashioned quill and a spare cross shaped hairclip. No person.
"Take the clip!" the clip said.
Irene jumped a few feet back. And smashed herself against the wall.
"Ouch!" she cried "And why the hell is an object talking to me?"
"It's me, Norway." The clip groaned "Now take the clip, I have to yell to get you to hear me."
"Why don't you just continue talking to me in my head?" Irene asked, carefully picking up the clip.
"Takes too much energy." The clip dismissed.
"Makes sense. How are you?" Irene wondered.
"Still passed out but better." Norway replied "If I'm correct, you managed to inflict some injury on the General, right?"
"I shot him once." Irene answered "Then Hong Kong shot him twice. And then a bunch of others fought him. Why? How'd you know?"
"His magic wavered for a bit," Norway explained "Which is why I managed to grab enough consciousness to talk via telepathy."
"Cool! So you're not dying anymore?" Irene smiled, relieved.
"… Well I'm dying at a slower pace." Norway deadpanned "Which is why I can't afford just lying there not doing anything."
"Oh." Irene said "Wait… Inflicting pain on General Winter weakened the curse's magic? I thought it was the Golden Horde's magic, how is that possible?"
"The Golden Horde knew his magic well," informed Norway "He knew his magic would dissipate at his death. To ensure Kiev's slavery to the curse, he linked his magic to a being he knew would live forever, General Winter."
"Which means killing General Winter is the only way to get rid of whatever's keeping you as active as a potato." Concluded Irene.
"Not that easy." Refuted Norway "You can't kill General Winter. Not that he's invincible or anything. He's just a being the world can't go without. Earth would be burning to ashes if it weren't for him. The Golden Horde chose him well."
"Then what can we do?" Irene asked.
"Well we can't kill General Winter." Norway answered "But we can kill you."