MW: 155 reviews? 155 reviews? What manner of sorcery is this? Since when did this . . .
SEK: What can I say but that the readers are awesome and need to be thanked. So thank you all. Now explain to them why this chapter took so long.
MW: Like last time, it was anxiety. However, it actually evolved into writer's block. So I had to suffer a weeklong of sitting in front of the computer, trying to will myself to write.
BFTL: Sounds awful. How did you ever break it?
MW: I decided to check out the Seychelles tag on tumblr. And you want to know what found? A post on a confessions blog about how this fic made them like Seychelles.
Unknown: That is where you are wrong!
SEK: What the-
Unknown: *jumps in through a window* It is I, MK. MW's less douchebaggy twin from a parallel universe. And the post credited me, not you!
MW: Correction- you are my evil twin that was created when multiple people kept on crediting us as "BFTLandMKandSEK". It is a simple mistake that I am making fun of.
MK: Well I'm still less of a douchebag. Wanna know why? Last chapter, you forgot to give our precious fanart a spot light. The-Panda-Bread of deviantArt drew a relationship chart of everyone's relationship as it was by the end of Chapter 11. And it has the cutest little chibis. Link for it is in our profile, so please go look at it.
MW: I was in a hurry and I forgot! And are you sure that you aren't the douchebag?
MK: Yes since I shall not guilt the readers into reviewing this chapter. So ha!

Chapter Summary: As the boys try to figure out where Sherry is, the girl herself is caught in a sticky situation.
Warnings: Strong language, Violence (including blood), Sexual references, mild OC X Canon, my terrible 3rd person writing skills, and yaoi.
Disclaimer: Even after all this time I still do not own Hetalia. Neither does MK.

~Chapter 13~

The Symphony of Unrequited Love

"But it was not your fault but mine
And it was your heart on the line
I really fucked it up this time
Didn't I, my dear?"
-From "Little Lion Man", a British song by Mumford and Sons

Cycle 12: Unknown Place

Turkey hugged his knees. He knew that it was bad when he started to feel comfortable in the starched clothes. But he had to admit: the change of scenery was nice. The usual white walls were gone and he was now sitting on a grassy hill covered with wildflowers. The slight warm breeze made the dandelions fall apart and litter the air. It was all idyllic. But there was still one thought nagging him.

How long has he been here? How was Sherry doing? Did Himaruya get to her already?

He carefully plucked one of the few whole dandelions from the ground and held it to his face. "Please be safe," he whispered, watching the white fluffs fall apart and fly far away from him. "If something bad happens to you, I don't know what I'll do."

Cycle 12: Thursday

All three men stared at him. Iceland's blue eyes were looking down to his bed and his pale hands wrung the sheet unmercifully. Not waiting for anyone to question him, he explained, "I woke up on Wednesday and I just couldn't move my own body. Hell, I couldn't even talk at my own command. For some reason, I went through all of my classes then hunted down Sherry. And I . . . Pops, I'm so sorry."

Turkey edged closer to the bed's edge. "What did you do?" he growled.

"I-"

England pointed an accusing finger. "You're responsible for her disappearance, aren't you?"

Immediately, he fiercely shook his head. "Yes, I did attack her, but I'm not responsible for her disappearance," he denied. The office was silent for a moment and the word sunk in. In an afterthought, he added, "That is, that I know of."

Turkey said, "So you admit to maybe playing a part?"

"Pops!" Iceland hanged his head and groaned in frustration. "I didn't have any control of what I was doing!"

"But you remember everything that happened," England pointed out. "So you at least witnessed it."

"Both of you are idiots." France took center stage as he sat on the edge of his defendant's bed. Absently, he hand a finger through his wavy locks, momentarily enjoying his superior knowledge. He said, "Think about it: how could Iceland play a major role if he was knocked unconscious?"

"He could have done it before that happened." England crossed his legs and folded his hands. "But I do have to agree with you: Iceland wouldn't want to hurt Sherry and Seychelles." Said man sighed with relief. "However, that doesn't mean that whoever took over your body doesn't."

"It doesn't want to hurt either of them either." All three turned back to Turkey. The tanned man was throwing off his blankets and moving towards the edge of his bed. He rubbed his hand up and down his legs, as if making sure that they still worked. "That thing wants to hurt me and if it has to kill the world, it will."

France scooted closer to the man, saying. "Turkey, if we are to help you, we have to know who we're up against."

Again, he looked down. His breaths were slow and controlled as he quelled whatever fear he may have. But soon enough, he was back to work- changing into the clothes that were in his Macy's bag. After coaxing Iceland to do the same, he quickly explained everything he knew about Himaruya. To spare himself the embarrassment, he omitted the strange love situation he had been thrown into. That was a little too personal and probably wouldn't play a part anyways.

The expression of his audience's faces was perfectly somber with raised eyebrows and parted lips. Turkey was buttoning the last button on his shirt when his tale came to an abrupt end.

"So Estonia is behind this?" England confirmed, helping Iceland tie his shoes (the Nordic was muttering about how unnecessary it was, but the parental man could care less). "That's . . . are you sure?"

"I know what I saw." He pulled his arms through the sleeves of his green hoodie. "I have no doubt about it."

"Now that I think about it, I haven't seen the boy in a while," France added, rubbing his stubbly chin thoughtfully. "He's just always been . . . there."

Turkey smoothed his jacket of the creases and wrinkles. "I know. Sneaky jackass."

At last, Iceland kicked England away and finished tying his own dress shoes. Taking his blazer from his own bag, he said, "That's nice and all, but our main concern should be finding Sherry-Seychelles." He jumped off his bed and swung the blazer over his shoulder in his usual style. "So, where should we start?"

England and France looked to Turkey. "Why are you jackasses looking at me?" he demanded. "I've been out for three days!"

"But you know more than we do."

Groaning, he ran his hand through his hair. For a few beats, he did nothing about mumble to himself. The expectant eyes never left him. At last, he nodded and looked them straight on. "I want to see the place where Iceland was attacked."

Grandly, England grabbed Iceland's hand and pointed to the hallway. "Alright then, chaps!" he yelled, eyes shining in sweet nostalgia. The memories of his pirate days were right behind his eyelids- saving the damsel against unfavorable odds. "We're off on an adventure!" With Iceland cursing his very existence, he dragged him out, laughing a hardy laugh.

France smirked and shook his head. "He's so spirited," he said wistfully. "I wish that he could always be like. . . "He trailed off as Turkey continued to run his hands through his hair, eyes distant. His mind was somewhere else- that was obvious. France pressed his lips together. "What are you looking for?"

Turkey jumped back to his feet, suddenly aware of what he was doing. France continued to look at him with a no-nonsense look. The brunette sighed. "It's nothing much," he explained. "I was just thinking. . ."

The other grinned and strongly patted his back. "Do you want to talk about it?"

The Turk shook his head. "No thank you." France looked back up at him. A deeper frown replaced his superficial one. Looking off to the side, Turkey said, "There are other things we should be worried about."

France pressed his lips and nodded again. Before he could offer anything else, England popped his head back through the doorway. In an annoyed tone, he demanded that the 'stupid gits' stopped their conversation and 'get their asses moving'. His boyfriend called out an agreement before running to meet him. Turkey lingered behind.

What if he was doing the wrong thing? Could he trust any of them not to double cross him? After all, Himaruya did guarantee that he was going to hurt Sherry.

Solemnly, he ran to meet them. These were the only people he had; he had to at least pretend to trust them.

It was strange- running after spending most of the week in slumber. Turkey's legs felt stiff like concrete. They ached at every joint, protesting the new speed. Still, his new team was at the end of the hall, making their way to the scene of the crime. If he just reached them . . .

"Turkey-kins!" The noise was more effective than Himaruya's frigid presence. Blood turned to ice as cold sweat ran down his back. That voice- that sweet, sweet voice. It could only be. . .

"I, like, didn't know that you were discharged!" Poland exclaimed, wrapping his arms around his waist. Turkey's back went tense as he felt Poland press his face into his back. How badly he wanted to hug him back. "Did you get the flowers I totally sent you? They're totes my goats awesome."

Turkey was suddenly aware that Iceland, France, and England were waiting for him a few yards away. The Brit was scowling, demanding that he hurried up. But Turkey didn't want to. He wanted to stay by the Pole's side and make sure that Himaruya did not get his hands around him. He had to keep him safe.

But he also had to find Sherry.

Pealing the other's arms away, Turkey turned to face his boyfriend. In one swift moment, he kissed his lips and held his wrists. When they broke apart, he wasted no time in saying, "Poland, I want you to trust me. Things are dangerous right now and I need you to stay with Switzerland- he'll keep you safe."

"Turkey, what's going on?" He asked, pleading with his green eyes. "Why wouldn't I, like, be safe?"

Turkey held his wrists tighter. "Promise me that you'll do that."

He hesitated. " . . . I promise. But Tur-"

The brunette turned him to the opposite direction and lightly nudged him in that direction. "Go now," he ordered. "The sooner you get to him, the better."

"Turkey."

"Yes?"

Poland ran back to him and quickly kissed his cheek. The man allowed himself to close his eyes and enjoy the static that riddled through his veins. "I love you," the blond said before doing as he was ordered.

Turkey watched him go, feeling his heart grow heavier. He could only pray that he would be with him again. In darker spirits, he turned to join the rest of his team.

The foursome traveled down the halls in a heavy silence. All of them were wrapped in their own concerns and worries. It weighed on their shoulders, threatening to break their backs. Still, they continued on, sure to discover something important. At last, England and France stopped at a taped off area. The yellow plastic declared it to be off limits, yet the student council members merely shrugged and ducked underneath. Turkey and Iceland exchanged looks and followed.

"This is where we found you, Iceland," the Brit said, gesturing to the area in front of a closed door. Cardboard signs with numbers littered the floor, marking the blood stains. The silver haired man gulped, realizing that it was his. "Do you see anything out of place?"

He shook his head. "Everything's where it should be." His face, France noticed, was significantly paler. "Can we get out of here?" he asked quickly. "I don't think that we're going to find anything here."

England laughed. "Nonsense; there is always something new to discover."

"Are you so sure of that, England?" Turkey asked as he squatted closer to the ground. His honey eyes lingered over the spots of red. "Who investigated it?"

England shrugged. "Crime Scene Investigator Pangaea."

"Jackass never does a good job."

"Well she was the only one who could. America and Denmark tried to investigate, but we kicked them out. They were going on about something involving Canada. . ."

France, meanwhile, stepped around Turley and placed a strong hand on the Nordic's shoulder. "Is something wrong?" he asked. "You don't look very good."

Iceland nodded. "I don't feel very good," he responded, growing another shade whiter. "Is that really my blood?'

France wrapped a sure arm around the near fainting man. "Hold it together, Iceland," he ordered, supporting his weakening body. "You're a nation and nations can deal with blood."

"I have no problem with blood," Iceland half-heartedly snapped. "It's my blood that's making me sick." He placed a hand on his forehead. "God- this wound isn't helping either." He grumbled a second longer before tuning into the other two investigators.

Turkey stood and released an irritated huff. "There has to be something here," he said, giving the area a general look. His eyes fixed themselves on the door. "Has anyone checked to see what's in there?"

"It's a closet," England replied, watching Turkey open it. "It was closed when we got here so there can't be anything important inside."

"Oh really? Because I just found the jackpot." The Mediterranean nation stepped aside to reveal Seychelles's bag lying perfectly intact in the
closet. He cockily smiled when England smacked his forehead.

"Why didn't she check there?" He groaned, reminding himself to have a word with the woman later. Maybe he could convince their bosses to cut her pay. Moving next to him, he called for France and Iceland to follow along.

France, however, only shook his head. "I don't think that's a very good idea, my dear. Iceland is feeling a bit dizzy right now."

Turkey turned to them, raising an eyebrow. "Are you alright kid?" he asked. "You can go back to the nurse's if you want."

He shook his head and allowed France to help him walk to the closet. "It's fine, really. I just need a little backbone-" It happened again. By 'it', I mean the bad luck Sherry was infamous for.

Iceland tripped. Yes, the Nordic fell over solid air, bringing France down with them. Both of them crashed right into the other two. The Frenchman blindly reached out and firmly grabbed the doorknob. But still, he continued to fall. All four of them landed inside the closet before the door accidently closed behind him.

They groaned, fighting to find a good position in the small, dark space. England and Turkey were curled up on the ground with France and Iceland laying on top of them. "Get your ass out of my face!" England snapped, trying to push France into Iceland.

"But my little bunny, I thought you liked it when-"

Iceland groaned and kicked him further away. "Can you two keep your hormones out of this?" he weakly demanded, feeling his world spin. It felt as though he hit his already injured head again.

Turkey untangled himself from the Brit and did his best to sit up. The younger nation protested as he crashed into the wall. "Sorry kid," the Turk growled, trying to bring his upper half completely of the ground. "Just trying to get comfortable."

"Well can you do it some other time?" Iceland demanded. "You're making me kiss the wall."

The elder sighed. He snapped, "Well how about you open the door so that it wouldn't be a problem?"

"Fine." The nation scooted across Turkey's body and placed a hand on the handle. At first, he merely thought that he was turning it the wrong way. But when the door refused to open, he thought that the gears were stuck. But then the realization hit him. "Guys . . ."

Turkey snapped at France and England to be quiet. They did their best to watch as Iceland slowly turned to them with wide eyes. Softly, he told them the worst news possible. "Guys . . . the door is locked."

Cycle 12: Thursday

At first, I did not want to wake up. It was as if I knew that when I did, I was going to be faced with the cruel reality of this world. But as the cold air blew across my face, I knew that I would have to eventually. There was only so much you could run from. Slowly, my eyes opened and I saw the massive iron bells hanging above me.

Great, I was at the bell tower. Nothing good ever happens here- especially when you're handcuffed to a pillar. Plus that kiss was pretty bad. Unless you guys ship me with Sadiq, but that's kind of gross (still have nightmares of his faking kissing me every night) (Alright, I lie. But still, it haunts me!). He's like 1000-something years old. That's being a pedo of the first degree. Then again, he was kind of handsome . . .

I shook the thought away. He was my father! Damnit, why did I always have to remind myself of that? Just platonic, no lovely-dove thoughts.

But he was still hot.

"I see that you are finally awake." I snapped my head around until I found him. Himaruya was leaning against the pillar across from mine, idly playing with the ends of his sleeves. It was odd to see Estonia not attached to some electronical device. Those machines were extensions of his body- like a third nipple.

When I did not snap a sly comment, he sighed. "What happened to your smart-ass stupidity?" he drawled, looking up to the sky. "You're no fun if you don't give me a headache."

Well, if he wanted something nasty from me, I'll give him shit. "You're the biggest asshole in the world," I sneered, wishing that I could stand and smack him. "I wish that you could go fuck yourself to death or something."

He chortled, "Or something? Do you really lack the brains to think of an alternative?" I opened my mouth, believing that I had a comeback, but my voice never came. The fear that previous chained me was back, making sure that I trembled in his presence. My legs were shaking profusely. Luckily, I was sitting therefore it was unnoticeable.

Himaruya sighed again. Wearing a tired face, he kicked off his pillar and walked towards me, saying, "I do not understand people like you." He squatted to my height and placed a heavy hand on my head, like a father to his daughter. "How can someone love my work so much yet ruin it so?"

I blinked. "What?"

"This all started as a doodle, something to keep me entertained in New York, yet it all turned into this."

"And what is so wrong with 'this'?" I asked, hoping that I wasn't making a serious mistake and falling back into his trap.

He pressed harder on my head. I winced, feeling my spinal cord crush. Hmm, this must be what Latvia feels like. "Of course you do not see it," he said, glaring ever so slightly at me. "You are, after all, part of the problem. But I will educate you about it. See here, I only want my series to be for the enjoyment of others. But how can anyone enjoy it if people are constantly telling them to hate this or 'ship' that?"

"Like I'll believe that," I growled, fighting against his force. He only crushed my spine further. "It's a fandom; people are going to be jerks."

He made an annoyed 'tsk' sound as he ruffled my hair. "You are so naive," he said. "I can feel the hatred Seychelles feels for people like you. People who hate her, resent her. And it is rather ironic, considering that I only created her to please the fans. Seychelles is meant to be the personification of the fans."

"We like yaoi too much," I deadpanned. "Give us a guy and we would've worshiped the very ground he walked."

"That is another thing that I do not understand. My fans are mostly women, yet they all have something against the females characters."

This time, I shrugged. "I personally don't find them to be very interesting characters," I said. "But I don't hate them, I just . . ." I trailed off. The word was there, right on the tip of my tongue. I smirked at the irony and lightly chuckled. "I respect them," I continued, knowing how happy Bella must be right now. I bet she was suddenly having a spaz attack for no apparent reason. "I may not particularly care for them, but I wouldn't go around hating on the people who do. I have my OTPs and they have theirs."

Himaruya gave a wry smile and shook his head. "You lie. You hated on Seychelles, remember? Isn't that why you're here?"

"Your plan worked." He quirked an eyebrow and looked at me. My legs suddenly didn't feel so weak anymore. It felt as though I had leverage against him and by God I was going to use it. "You sent me here so that I can learn to respect Seychelles. And you want to know something? It fucking worked. I respect her- I understand her better than you ever will. And you want to know something else? The only person here who's lacking respect is you. You need to respect that your fans have certain ideas and as freaking stupid they may be, they will never change."

For a long moment he merely stared at me. Then an amused grin stretched across his face. I was afraid for a moment that it was because I trapped myself again, but it quickly went away when he laughed. His cruel mirth bounced easily around the air. "You are a very interesting person, Sherry. Just when I think I know you, you say something so ridiculous that I have to reconsider my opinion."

I frowned. "How is that ridiculous? I-"

"Am I to be expected to respect those who refuse to respect me?" He demanded.

With an eye roll: "What goes around fucking comes around."

He shot to his feet like a rocket into the sky. I flinched, making sure his knees didn't accidently hit my face. "The world does not work that way," he spat, dark shadows crossing over his eyes. I flinched, praying that he didn't end up slapping me or something else of the sorts. "You can feel all you want about something, but those feelings will never be rightfully returned."

I stared. Feelings? He had feeling for someone? "By the perplexed look on your face, I would say that you do not understand the context of my words." He walked away, pacing in a semicircle around me. I trailed him with my eyes, wondering where in the world he was going with this. "I will make this very simple for you. Sadiq is a rather attractive man and has an array of lovers. This includes Poland, Switzerland, Seychelles, you-"

I scowled. "-I do not -"

"-And me." For a moment, all I could do was gape. Did he just say what I just think he said? Is freaking Himaruya/Estonia actually in love with Sadiq as well?

I shook my head, huffing, "That's crazy, why would you-"

"Why else would I go through so much trouble?" The blond's pacing grew faster as he listed his causes. "I've loved Turkey long before he hooked up with Switzerland. I deserved him, not that flat blond. It eventually got to the point where I just had to have him. So I made the contract with him and won his soul."

"I already heard this story," I growled. "After having him for three minutes, Sadiq demanded his freedom from you."

Himaruya smirked, a light chuckle in his voice as he asked, "Do you not think that I know that? Would I be repeating myself if he had told you the whole story?" My face fell. "The first time I called in on my deal, I had no mercy. I changed Turkey's mind so that he did love me. Unfortunately, to my dismay, love cannot be forced. Even though his feelings were true, I knew better. I knew that he only loved me because I was forcing him. All the magic of our relationship was gone. I knew that I had to release him. Thus I wiped all evidence that it ever happened, made sure that the change was permanent, and left him to sulk."

He paused in front of me and knelt to my height. Like parent to his child, he continued, "But the whole time I longed for him. I just wanted him to love me and I was perfectly content with feeling that longing forever. But then he started dating Poland. Let's just say that jealousy ensued. Naturally, I had to figure out a way to get him back. To my luck, Seychelles was dumb enough to accidentally take my computer. I saw a way to kill two birds with one stone and I did it."

His close proximity was the only thing that kept me from rolling my eyes. Damn, this sounds like a bad doushinji. Or a HetaOni parody. "One problem Sherlock: you are 'god'," I said. "Why didn't you just redo the whole forced love thingy?"

"That is the one flaw of my abilities: I cannot undo that which I made permanent. My 'love potion' was never meant to be permanent- just in case. But I made the undoing of it so. Thus, I cannot make him forcibly fall in love with me again. Understand?"

"I'm going to pretend that I do."

He drew even closer to me. His nose brushed against mine and his cold breath danced against my skin. I shivered, trying not to think of the things that he could do to me or anyone else here. "That is no problem," he said, voice dripping with a heavy dosage of power. "I have all night to help you understand."

I really hate the bell tower.

Cycle 12: Thursday

"I spy with my little eye something that is black."

"It's the door, isn't it?"

"Damnit."

We now return to the fearsome foursome and their captivity in the closet. Hours have passed and the men were bored out of their mind. After Seychelles's backpack yielded no evidence of use, they attempted to break the door down. But the space was too small and much too cramp for them to even properly ram their shoulder into it. Giving up, they were left to discuss where they thought their missing girl was. However, once the brains of the group's head injury became too much, Iceland fell asleep and the remaining three were left alone.

At that point, they were seat in the most comfortable positions possible: Turkey to the right with a sleeping Nordic on his lap between his knees and chest. To the left was France and England in a similar manner. England was originally on the bottom, but the elder's weight was so heavy that he had painfully played a game of Twister until he was on top. That nearly resulted with a broken nose for all four of them.

"This game is stupid," England complained, the lack of light covering his glare. "There is nothing in here but the door."

France and Turkey exchanged glances and shrugged. "Well we already tried other things," an annoyed Turkey pointed out. "We did the bag-"

"Iceland's bandage," France helpfully added.

"My hoodie,"

"You're lovely butt-"

England did his best to raise his hand in defeat without hitting someone or the wall. "Alright, chaps, that's enough," he ordered testily. "I believe I got the point." They saw the hint to be quiet and they took it. For what felt like forever, they sat in an uncomfortable silence, listening to nothing but Iceland's steady breathing.

The already scarce light twinkling from under the door was further dimming, making them even more aware of the passage of time. France leaned his head back and sighed. "Hey Turkey."

Said man didn't even look at him. "Hm?"

"What will you do if you lose your soul?"

The air suddenly felt heavy. England looked at his boyfriend and frowned. "Git, don't ask something like that," he snapped, furrowing his eyebrows. "He probably doesn't want to talk about it."

Amazingly, the Turk only shook his head. "No, it's fine," he said. He too leaned his head against the wall in thought. "I've never actually put any thought into it," he confessed, gently brushing the hair from Iceland's face. "I've just always told myself that I was going to find a way out. But now . . . I guess I know what I'll do."

This time, France was not the one who pushed. England leaned forward, eyebrow raised as he prompted, "Which is?"

He sighed. "I'll-"

"Guys! Look!" The Frenchman shot his arm out and pointed at the base of the door. Plenty of light was suddenly flooding in through the small crack. What was more, there were voice talking a little distance away. All of their eyes lit up and they immediately started calling for help. Their ruckus woke Iceland, who yawned and mumbled his confusion. But even he was back in full alert when the door was opened.

America and Denmark were their saviors. The two blondes created dark silhouettes against the bright fluorescent lights. Everyone in the closet tried not to groan as the American laughed, saying, "Dude! I think we found Canada!"

Denmark nodded. "Yeah, yeah," he said, waving it off. "But too bad it's so small."

"We could expand it Harry Potter style."

Iceland and Turkey both gave England a condescending look. The Nordic was frowning deeply as he said, "England, you raised an idiot."

The Brit pouted. "He's not an idiot," he practically whined. "He's just special."

The Turk sighed and turned his attention back to the standing men. "What are you two even doing here?" he asked. "This is a closed off area."

America grinned broadly and pounded a hand on his chest. "I, obviously, am on a search for the ever fated Canada," he announced grandly. A waving star-spangle banner would have fitted perfectly in the background. "For centuries, explorers such as Lewis and Clark, Indiana Jones-"

"That's a fictional character," Iceland interjected. No one paid him any heed.

"-and that dude that discovered sliced bread have wandered the face of the earth in search of it. But because of the evil Loki, none have ever been able to find it."

"America!" The Dane punched his shoulder, half playful, half hateful. "I thought that we agreed that Loki is an honorary Avenger! His badass ways make him a worthy bad-guy turned good."

The other pouted as his blue eyes resembled that of a lonely puppy. "I thought that was only in our Frost Iron fic!"

At last, France had enough. "We're wasting time," he said, motioning England to get off his lap. He did so, dragging the crippled man along with him. At last, the biggest of the foursome was able to stand. They groaned, cracking their backs and stretching their legs. "Remind me to never sit down again . . ."

England nudged America's shoulder. The younger brother took enough time away from his shipping war to be asked what the time was. "It's about ten," he said, looking at the clock on his wrist. Denmark was doing a similar action, except his wrist was bare. Weirdo. "By the way, what were you guys even doing in there?"

"Looking for someone," Iceland said immediately. He hand was latched onto England shoulder, making sure that he loose to his dizziness. "Have either of you possibly seen Seychelles or Estonia anywhere?"

"Well of course I have." All eyes shot to Denmark. He was smiling obviously as his eyes twinkled with mirth. "Well I haven't seen them myself, per say, but I was walking down the hallway earlier and some voice just told me to tell you guys that Seychelles was at the obvious spot."

England stared at him blankly. "A voice told you?"

The Dane put another second of thought into it before smiling again. "Yup!"

"Bloody hell, that's the worst advice I've-"

"No, it's the best." Turkey rubbed his chin, thinking it everything through. "When I was in that room, sometimes Himaruya would never show himself," he told them, sounding very much like a rambling professor. "He would only be a voice from nowhere."

France shook his head, saying, "I completely believe you on that, Turkey, but what about the place? What would be the obvious spot?"

There was a pause as he thought about it. The obvious spot- something important must have happened there, but what? Was it at the Prom? No, too many people. The bell tower had nothing directly to do with Himaruya. "It's the bar," the nation said at last. "That's where I first became boyfriends with Poland. It has to be."

Nonchalantly, Turkey placed an arm around the silver haired man's waist. Iceland took the hint and wrapped his arms around his neck. He picked him up bridal style. "Let's get going," he ordered, starting off at a quick jog. "The sooner we get there, the better."

England and France exchanged glances. "My little bunny, would you carry me?" The taller one asked, causing his boyfriend to blush deeply.

"B-bloody hell no!" England yelled, cheeks puffing out with red. He turned his face away, trying to hide is obvious embarrassment. "You're too heavy."

"But Iceland-"

"He's injured! He can't even stand properly!"

"Hey! Jackasses!" They jumped, realizing that Turkey was at the end of the hall, glaring at them. "Hurry up! We have less than two hours!" They exchanged a quick nod before running after him.

America and Denmark waved them off, calling out loud and goofy goodbyes. Once they were gone, they mutually decided to try out some new kinks for their fanfiction. Because Tony Stark and Loki Odinson need their strange sex scenes too.

But that's completely irrelevant.

Carrying Iceland, Turkey ran as fast as he could to the bar. The distant music from the prom pounded loudly against his ears, syncing with his heart. Time seemed to move too slowly as he led the group down. What if he was too late? What if the worst possible thing has already happened?

What if he really let her down?

"Here!" The Turk gently placed Iceland back on the ground, a few feet away from the bar door. He waited a second for England and France to catch up. Both of their faces were flushed and their breaths were weighted.

"Bloody hell Turkey," the Brit panted, placing his hands on his knees. "When did you learn to run so fast?"

He shook his head. "You just need to learn to run," he said, placing a hand on the cold doorknob. For a second, he wallowed in the goose bumps that ran up the sides of his arm. But he also shook that away and turned it.

A mocking click met his ears. Locked.

He groaned. "Everyone, stand back," he ordered, backing up until his back was against the opposite wall. "This will get messy."

Iceland looked at his feet and back at the door, comparing his distance. Evidently, he decided that he was too close and took a few shaky steps back. "Pops, what are you trying-?"

Turkey ran as fast as he could into the door and kicked it with all his might. A few seconds later, he was curing and clutching his ankle as the intact door seemed to laugh at him. "Holy shit!" he cursed, pounding his free hand against the wall. "That fucking- why didn't that break?"

Meanwhile, England and France exchange glances with Iceland and giggled. Smiling, the Frenchman placed a hand on his shoulder, saying, "My friend, all of the doors in this school are nation-proofed. You can kick it all you want, but it isn't going to break."

Again, he groaned, "Well do either of you jackasses have the key?"

"No, Bartender Pangaea has the only copy," England replied. "But since Nurse Pangaea is pissed off at us, I highly doubt that she would open it for us."

Iceland rolled his eyes and crossed his hands over his chest. "Why don't we get Belarus to open it?" he asked. All three of them stared at him. "Last time I checked, she can easily break her hand through the wood."

"Well someone is going to have to find the lady."

France shot his hand in the air. "Two people will go," he declared before shooting out at top speed, "One-two-three-not it!"

Iceland's hand shot up even higher. "Not it!"

"Not it!"

"Not it- oh hell!"

England and Turkey were the two tributes. Courting death (or at least in their eyes), they kissed their love ones goodbye and set out to find her. The obvious place to start was the prom. After all, what high school girl would not be spending her time there? Staying together, they plunged into the dancing crowd and searched for the girl with the knives.

Romantic ballads were played on the highest volume, causing the walls to shake ruthlessly. The air was hot and heavy, smelling distinctly of sweat. Turkey could not help but to crinkle his nose. How was this supposed to be romantic? He and England peeled apart dancing couples like Moses and the Red Sea.

Eventually, they spotted her in the middle of the dance floor, holding Belgium close as they swayed to the rhythm. The two men looked at each other. Who was going to be the one to risk his life and ask her? They did a quick game of rock-paper-scissors.

One, two, three, shoot!

Turkey won.

England made the sign of the cross and looked to the heavens as he gave his possibly last prayers. Timidly, he tapped the scary woman's shoulder, saying, "Excuse me, ma'am-"

In a flash, she moved Belgium behind herself and glared at him. "What do you want?" she growled, hatefully curling her lower lips. "Can't you see that we're busy?"

The Brit scratched the back of his head, laughing nervously. "I can see that," he said, sweating a storm. His emerald eyes shifted over to Turkey, silently begging for reinforcements. The man gestured for him to just try. "But we are in a bit of a tight spot right now, and-"

"Get someone else to do it," Belarus snapped, immediately turning back to Belgium. She held her close and tried to resume the dance, but the Flemish woman was peeking her head at them. The ex-Soviet sighed and pulled away, asking, "What's wrong?"

"Belarus, don't you think that it would be a good idea to at least listen to what they say?" She asked, curls bobbing in sync with her moving head. Her green eyes shined with an unspeakable kindness as she said, "After all, it is the right thing to do, right?"

Turley and England watched in amazement as the school psychopath took the hint. Arms dropping uselessly to her side, she coughed, "So what do you need help with again?"

They exchanged another glance. Well this had to be a first from her. Since when was she ever this nice to anyone? But as they wondered about it, the more it became apparent that Belgium was forcing her to become a better person. Turkey had to resist drifting off into the world of epic romances such as the Titanic. This was just too perfect.

In a refined manner, England held his chin high and carefully explained their dilemma. "We can't exactly explain to you why we need to get in there, but just know that it is important," he said, finishing his speech. The blonde continued to give in an unimpressed stare. Grinning with confidence, he outstretched a comforting hand. "So . . . will you help us?"

She glared down at it. With the way her thin lips were drawn, it was almost certain that she would say no. But instead, she rolled her eyes and painfully locked it with hers. "Just this once."

Finally, with one last encouragement from Belgium, Belarus was escorted back to the bar. The whole hike she was grumbling, arms crossed over her chest, and sulking about her predicament. Neither of the men had the guts to voice their unanimous opinion: there was no point to being kind if you were just going to complain about it.

"My God, you did it!" France jumped from his spot on the floor with Iceland. His hands were on his cheeks as he rambled, "We didn't think that you would actually be able to do it! How many bones did she break?"

Before anyone could answer, Belarus socked his gut and marched right past him. "Shut it, bastard," she growled, causing everyone else to take a protective step back. "Where the hell is this door anyways?"

Iceland pointed to it. "Right there, Miss. By the way, I have to say that your dress looks stunning on you."

The dress was an elegant, form fitting ball gown with a leg slit nearly reaching her hips. Most of her back was revealed as well as her boobs. The compliment, however, only made her scowl worsen. "Stupid straightie," she muttered. She took a few steps back and ran toward the door. Her heels clicked on the wood floors, only stopping when her fist made contact with the mahogany.

The door lost 150 experience points and broke easily. The men's manliness lost 420. She was able to do that so easily. "Thank you so much, Belarus," Turley thanked as she tore away the remaining wood. "This was a great-" She instead opted to just tear the hindrance off its hinges and throw it at the wall behind him. Turkey looked back at it and felt sweat prick his neck. One inch closer and that thing would've hit his face. Forcing the grin to remain on his face, he 'merrily' continued, "This was a great help for us, Belarus. If you can return to your girlfriend now-"

"Not just yet." The smile and joyful visage disappeared completely as she glared at them, saying, "I want to see what has your panties all tight in a bunch."

England lunged forward. "Don't-" But it was already too late, she was running down the stairs and into the bar. Seconds after her blond locks disappeared into the dark depths, her shrill shriek sounded through the air.

No one wasted anymore time.

France, Turkey, Iceland, and France rushed as fast as they could down the bar steps. Their anxiety made the short journey last for hours, but when they entered the dimly lit bar, even they had to resist screaming.

Belarus stood stock still, staring at the table a yard away from it. To spare everyone from the disgusting description, I'll explain this as simply as I can: Liechtenstein, Italy, previously getting it on but now looking very shocked and embarrassed. Luckily, they were still dressed.

"The fuck?!"

As the men quickly slapped their hands over their eyes, cursing their luck. Never in their lives did they want to witness raw straightness. Belarus, meanwhile, pressed her lips and marched over to the other girl. "Liechtenstein, you will back away now," she ordered, marching up to Italy. The girl did what she was told and jumped back. In a single moment, Belarus had his body thrown over her shoulder, saying, "You and I need to have some private time to chat about what you can and cannot do with my Liechtenstein."

Said girl straightened her ruffled hair and stretched a hand towards her. "Wait Belarus! Don't-" When she continued to march past the rest of the crowd and up the stairs, the girl quickly fixed the wrinkles of her dress and started to chase after them. "It's not his fault, it's-"

"Whoa, hold it." England placed two hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "What in the world is going on?" he demanded, fixing the stray strands of her hair. "

Her white cheeks turned a deep shade of red. Averting her gaze, she stared at her feet as she explained, "I'm not sure. Seychelles just told me to trying dating him and one thing led to another . . . please don't tell my brother! He'll wring Italy's neck!"

France took a step forward and wrapped a sure arm around her frame. "We promise to keep this as quiet as possible," he said. "Though I highly doubt that Belarus would do the same. So if you wouldn't mind . . ."

She curtly nodded and started to make her way to the stairs. "Hold it." Reluctantly, she paused. Turkey glared at her small back, suspecting the worse as he asked "Was this room empty when you came in here?" She nodded, still not looking at him. "Was there any evidence of anyone being in here before you?"

"No."

He sighed, forcing himself to think positively. He knew that this girl was not Himaruya, but his thoughts were wandering. Secretly, he wanted it to be her, that way he would be a step closer to defeating the jackass. Slowly, he said, "Last question: have you seen either Estonia or Seychelles today?"

"I haven't." His shoulder dropped as a defeated breath left all their lungs. What now? "But now that I think about it, I did see something weird."

All of their eyes fixed on her. Iceland was on the edge of his seat, attentively nodding as he urged, "Well what is it?"

This time, Liechtenstein faced them with a blank face. It was obvious that she did not know the significance of her own words when she said, "Every time I passed by the windows today, I noticed that there was someone up in the bell tower. I don't know who, but they never left."

Turkey's honey eyes went as wide as they could. "Of course," he breathed, seeing everything clicked. "I would never suspect . . . and it does have significance to him since I . . . "He loudly smacked his forehead. "We need to get to the bell tower," he said. "Himaruya has to be there. Liechtenstein, you can go break Belarus and Italy up."

"How do you know for sure?" England asked, watching the girl leave at last. "For all we know, all of this can be just a trap to keep us in circles."

France nodded. "Yes and how do we know that the person was even him?"

Turkey opened his mouth, ready to give the answer when Iceland cut him off. "It's quite simple really," he said. "You just need to think about it. The clock tower would actually be the ideal place for him to hide. It's intimidating while staying far away from the other students. Plus it's the spot where Pops ki-"

Turkey slapped a hand over his mouth. "That's enough of that," he ordered before lifting the man into his arms. Being carefully not to hurt him, he started for the stairs. "Come on, it's nearly eleven o'clock." France and England exchanged one last glance before following after him.

Once the view of the hallway's large windows met him, the Turk took a deep breath and started running. Again, his companions were far behind him, yelling out curses and demanding that he slowed down but he paid little heed. The idea of being so close to the prize made his legs move even faster. They ran up a staircase and down countless hallways, slowly getting closer and closer to their goal.

"Hey!" Iceland tugged on his shirt, saying, "Slow down for them, would ya?"

At last, Turkey unhappily rolled his eyes and slowed to a stop. He tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for France and England to catch up. When they did, the Nordic had to tap him again and remind him to stay still. The taller blond's face was flushed, but not as red as his boyfriend's as he said, "My God, can you slow down for a second? You'll tire yourself out before we even get started!"

"But we don't have much time to waste!" He replied hotly. "We have until midnight or else-"

"France!" England screamed as a foot made painful contact with his back. As he fell, the Frenchman swooped in and caught his shoulders. His blue eyes glared up at the attacker. His lips twitched when Germany met his stare equally. He was wearing a prom suit, but the buttons were mixed matched and his hair was slightly uneven.

"What are you doing, Germany?" he demanded, trying hard not to portray the hatred he truly felt.

Turkey felt his back straighten. There was a look in the newcomer's eyes; one of deep, unquenchable emotions. He may not have been able to pinpoint exactly what they were- lust, greed, wrath, envy -but they were uncontrollable . . . like Himaruya's. "France, run!" The brunette screamed, realizing what was going on. "Germany can't control himself! Get out of there!"

The moment he finished speaking, Germany went in for another blow. France wrapped a protective arm around his boyfriend and shoved him behind himself. He took the blow for him, gasping when the jab met his chest. "Stupid frog!" England yelled, worriedly looking over his stressed face. "Why the hell did you-"

The blond grinned. "Because I love you and no matter what you may say, I will always be here for you-"

"Dodge it!" Iceland shrieked.

France and England turned with just enough time to note the incoming fist. But they were already at the point of no return: there was no chance of escape. France, once again, tried to keep England behind himself, but the stubborn man was pushing to himself to the front. Turkey made a brash decision and started to run to help. But while he carried Iceland, he could never stop him in time.

The foot was going to hit . . .

"West!" In a second, Prussia had Germany's arms restrained and was holding them high above his head. His white hair brushed over his glaring red eyes as he yelled, "I have no idea what's up with you right now, but it's really not awesome!"

The couple continued a long stare at him, unsure of what was happening. Germany was attacking them and Prussia was going to save them? What? They hadn't even considered leaving until Iceland stuck two fingers in his mouth a released a low whistle. "Let's get going," he urged, much to Turkey's relief. "I'm sure Prussia can handle this!"

"Yeah. Because I'm awesome!"

Adjusting the boy in his arms, the Turk started to run again. His heart felt a little lighter when he heard France and England following up his rear.

Cycle 12: Thursday

At last, the freaking loud bells stopped chiming. "It's eleven o'clock," I said, feeling the ringing they created fade away. It felt as though my eardrums were bleeding, yet Himaruya was standing off to the side as if it was nothing more than a pesky fly. He stood at the edge of the tower, gazing out at the moon like a total emo character. Asshole. I bet that if he ever got any fangirls, they'll be the obsessive ones that everyone hates. Simmering in my hate, I added, "And Sadiq's isn't here yet."

He turned to me, an uncaring look in his eyes. Taking off his glasses, he asked, "And what's your point?"

"Your plan's failing," I said evenly, trying to sound like the cool, fearless badass that I was not. "I thought that Sadiq was supposed try to save me and would fall right into your trap."

Rubbing the lenses with the end of his shirt, he shrugged. "You are forgetting: there is still an hour left. Many things can change within an hour." He held his glasses high in the air and peered through the glass. "And besides, I did give him a few obstacles to go through," he said casually. It sent goose bumps up my legs. "But if I am right, he should be arriving in three, two-"

"Sherry!" My eyes went wide and my heart stopped. Sadiq . . . he was coming. Joy flooded my heart. He was actually coming to save me. I frowned. But this was a trap. He had to leave me behind. But even if he left me behind, there could be nothing he could do to break the contract. Either way he was going to lose.

He should lose in the less humiliating way.

I opened my mouth, ready to scream for him to go away when something gagged me. Choking, I looked down the best I could to see a white rag tied tightly around my mouth. When did that get there? Himaruya smirked as I started to scream muffles. "Let's be quiet now, Sherry," he mischievously said, placing his glasses back on his nose. "We wouldn't want you to ruin the surprise."

He disappeared suddenly. For a moment, I struggled against my handcuffs, hoping and praying to break free. But I stopped when I saw Sadiq's glorious being pop through the trapdoor. He was carrying Ari (who had this massive bandage on his head) and was amazingly trailed by France and England.

The moment they saw me, a series of reactions occurred. Ari's face lit up and he exclaimed my name. France and England turned and hugged each other, happy that their daughter was okay. Sadiq, however became wide eyed. Gently, he placed Ari on the ground before sprinting over to me. "Sherry!" He knelt in front of me and started to pull off my gag. His concern was the only thing possible of calming my wrecked nerves. "My God, are you alright? Are you hurt? Where's Himaruya?"

My mouth was free. "Get out of here!" I shrieked; panic surging through me like the blood in my veins. They stared at me. "All of you! It's a trap-"

"Did I not tell you to not ruin the surprise?" My savior was suddenly yanked away from me. Thrown to the ground a few feet away, he laid on his back as Himaruya pinned his chest with his foot. Our onlookers started to move towards him, but the creator held up a hand. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he warned. "After all, you wouldn't want your cute little daughter to be hurt now, would we?" They were forced to bite their lips and stop.

"Why are you doing this?" Ari demanded fiercely. "Why is any of this necessary?"

The blonde frowned. I felt immediate fear for my old lover. He was rebelling against the equivalent of an Egyptian god who could kill him with just the snap of the fingers. "I have a bet to win," he growled. "And I suggest that you all leave before I force you to."

France took a step forward. "Estonia, will you please just stop?" he pleaded, patting the air with his hands. "I know that you're a good boy with a good heart."

"Just stop." For a moment, I did not even believe that Sadiq was the one to say it. But sure enough, there was a defeated look in his eyes and a sad frown on his face. "Can't you guys see: he's won," he said. "There is no point in it now."

"No." This time, England was the one to take a step forward. "Hell no. You push our asses around the school, dead on trying to find this guy just to give up so easily? You are a bloody fucking idiot if I ever met one!"

"England, you must not berate him so casually. After all, he is doing the smart thing," Himaruya said as he smirked at the unknowing people. "My contract with him is coming to an end and he knows it. It's perfectly fine for Sadiq to stop giving me trouble and just accept his fate. And I don't blame him. It is-" He looked at his wristwatch and hummed in delight. "Five minute before midnight. There is no point."

This time, I was the one to get pissed. "Five minutes?" I yelled, jerking my arms against the bounds. "It was just eleven o'clock a minute ago!"

The one thing that I loved about Ari is the fact that he catches on very quickly. The minute I finished speaking, he snapped his fingers and pointed an accusing finger. "You changed the time!" He exclaimed.

Our bad guy frowned, figuring that this was not going somewhere nice. "Yes I did. Do you have a point that you are trying to make?"

"Yes. You contract with Pops clearly states that you are not allow to change things in this world to your advantage. I presume that the previous offensives were with justified cause, but not this one. By binding law, you have no right to do that. Therefore Pops, the Republic of Turkey- aka: Sadiq -rightfully deserves compensation."

We all stared at him . . . Did that even work? Was it possible?

Amused, Himaruya laughed. "You are a very interesting person," he said, holding his sides. We all shifted our stares at him. What was he so happy about? "There are, however, a few exceptions to your claim, but since you are so humorous-" Iceland frowned, crinkling his nose. "-I'll just go with it."

My arms were suddenly free. They ached and the lack of restraints caused them to droop to my sides uselessly. I rubbed my shoulders, hissing under my breath. Their gazes were on me and I could feel them prickling on my skin.

Himaruya took his foot off my mentor and approached me. "This will be the compensation: Every man in this area loves this stupid little girl to some degree. But there is one here who's love- the strongest here -is romantic." Looming over me, he seemed to taunted what little courage I had by saying, "If Sherry can figure out who this guy is, kiss him, and get his love confession before the time is up, then Sadiq is free from his contract. If not he's mine. Deal?"

Ari scooted a little closer. "You cannot do anything that will guarantee her failure," he said, a small sneer in his voice. "If you do, Sadiq's contract is immediately void."

The not-Baltic frowned, making a small 'tsk' noise. He growled, "Deal." My heart banged loudly on my chest. Shit, why did all of this pressure have to go onto me? What if I screw up badly? "But to be fair, I will give you a little hint."

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I did not notice the knife before it was in my shoulder. I screamed, crying hot tears as the searing pain tore at my flesh and bone. Oh my God, did he really just stab me? Was that really necessary? Distantly, I heard the onlookers make a lunge for it, but a snap of the fingers reminded them to stay in place. I thought I heard Sadiq grinding his teeth together.

The knife pulled out of me. It was covered by a thick coating of red liquid- my blood. The sight made me even more nauseous. As I tried to hold back my vomit, the pale man swooped into my face. His nose brushed against mine as he whispered, "It's not me." Well fuck- as if that was helpful. He stood and took a step to the side, saying, "You have two minutes. Go."

It was hard to move with a shoulder wound. It felt like the worse pain anyone in the world could ever experience. Grunting and crying, I stayed on my knees and dragged myself over to the 'FrUk' and Ari. Both France and England looked horrified and pissed off. They obviously were not happy that their daughter was just stabbed. But they were not my destination- Ari was.

The Icelandic had to wait patiently as I made my way for to him. With each step, it felt as though my skin was slowly tearing further and further apart. Damn it, animes make this look so easy. By the way he pressed his lips together; I knew that he was thinking about something, running a scenario in his head. I moaned, feeling my muscles give way even more. A few feet away from him, I was too tired to move. Thus I outstretched a hand towards him, softly saying, "Ari . . ."

Whatever he was thinking about, it clicked. "Don't choose me!" he yelled. "Choose-"

"No helping her." Like a light switch, Ari's voice flicked off. I would normally have pinned his sudden silence to have been my failing sense and spinning sight, but he was gripping his throat like Ariel, trying to make a sound sing out. Himaruya sounded as though he was smirking when he said, "Let the girl figure it out for herself. You have sixty seconds."

Shit.

France and England took a step forward, immediately rejecting the interference. "That broke the contract," England yelled.

"You can't guarantee her failure," France added.

The ex-Estonian shrugged, saying something about how he didn't. He ignored Ari as he crawled over to me. He fiercely gripped my shoulder and mouthed words to me. I, unfortunately, did not read lips very well and had no idea what he was saying. A few times, he pointed to the area behind me, but I didn't understand why.

My brain was on overload. Not only was I constantly aware of the warm blood seeping through my shirt, but it was trying to figure out what to do now. Ari was the one who loved me romantically. But he can't confess his love to me if he could not speak. "But that's against the rules," I thought. "He should have lost his deal." But Himaruya would never do something that would endanger his chances of losing Sadiq. So there was someone else who loved me more than Iceland. But who? France and England loved Seychelles but they were still together. Sadiq loved me as a daughter.

Who was it?

I suddenly remembered earlier: Himaruya's side of the story. "I will make this very simple for you," he had said. "Sadiq is a rather attractive man and as an array of lovers. This includes Poland, Switzerland, Seychelles, you and me."

He included himself, but Sadiq hates him . . .

. . . The feelings could be one sided.

"Shit, I father zoned Sadiq," I realized, barely able to contain my shock. Lucky for me, the older men were still fighting over the contract and paid me any heed. Ari did. He fiercely nodded and pointed behind me again. Sadiq was behind me- Ari had realized it before me.

I quickly embraced him, maybe for the last time, and started the quickest crawl possible for the man. He was still lying on the ground. His limbs haven't even moved. I swiftly excused it as some invisible force-like restrain before leaning over him. Sadiq opened his eyes and looked up at me. "What are you doing over here?" he asked, a small sigh in his voice. A small chuckle escaped his lips. "I'm-."

I gripped his shirt tightly. More blood spilled and trickled down my arm and onto his shirt. It made me feel even sicker. "Just shut up," I said. Suddenly, I noticed that everything was quiet. The arguing had stopped. I could feel Himaruya's presence behind me. I took a deep breath and quickly leaned in.

And I kissed him

.

.

.

Before all you anti-OC fangirls start flipping out on me, I need to just say one thing: it was awkward. Yes, it did feel awesome, as if his lips were perfectly matched for mine. But there was something different about them, as if they weren't the ones who faked kissed me. It was so weird. But whatever hesitance the smart side of me felt disappeared when he started kissing me back.

Holy shit, he actually kissed me back.

Why was he kissing me back?

It could be that I was an idiot and that every comforting, caring moment he had with me was a sign of affection. But a small, logical voice in my head pointed out that he was gay. He had a boyfriend. I guess that I could accept the idea of him being bisexual, but that would mean that I wouldn't mind him feeling that way about me in the first place.

The scary thing was that I didn't mind at all.

My smart side questioned the logic of me suddenly feeling romantic towards a guy I pinned to be my father. No, that wasn't accurate. He was still my father, but he was also my crush. He's been both for a while now. He . . . I just knew that I cared deeply for him. For some reason, I just could no longer imagine my life without him. I just simply yearned for his presence-father or lover, I didn't care as long as he was there to love me.

I must sound like such a Sue right now.

I was smiling softly when I finally pulled away. I felt tired, maybe from blood loss, but I also felt content. I did it. I saved Sadiq. I looked down at him, waiting for the love confession.

He stared up at me for a long second, lips parted and breath shallow. Numbly, his hand reached up and lovingly cupped my cheek. I placed my hand over his and held it. They were surprisingly cold. "Wrong person."

In a second, I was flipped onto my back with his hand pinning me down by my neck. I wasn't choking, only gasping in pain and feeling dizzier than ever. I coughed, "W-what the-"

Himaruya clapped his hands slowly before snapping his fingers. France, England, and Ari froze, limbs unable to move. But their chests heaved quickly with stress and their worried eyes rested on me. I felt another wave of fear. It was an injured me verses Hima-pops and an evil Sadiq. The odds were not in my favor.

Walking slowly, he smirked and continued his applause, saying, "You are easier to trick than I originally expected. All of you are."

I looked up at Sadiq. He stared down at me blankly. At that moment, I hated him more than anything in the world. Still, I had to push my hate aside to ask, "W-what do you mean?"

"If you haven't guessed by now- that is not the real Sadiq." He turned to the boys. "In fact, this whole time he's been a fraud," he proclaimed a small laugh in his voice. "And you all have been too stupid to realize it."

Knowing that it wasn't him made me feel a little better- embarrassed, but better. And pissed. I was very pissed. "Where's the real Sadiq?" I growled loudly. I regretted it when my vision started to spin. Damn blood loss, why now? I was trying to make a fierce impression!

Another snap of the fingers. Fake-Sadiq picked me up and brought me closer to the edge. "The real one is waiting in my domain," Himaruya said. "Praying that his precious girl will save him from his fate. But-" In some form of irony, the double held me over the side of the tower by the back of my collar. This time, even though my feet were support by thin air, I did not scream. "-it's practically midnight."

No one screamed my name and rush to the edge to see my splattered body. No, one second I was hanging there and the next I was falling through the air. The cold air made my limbs feel even more stiff. The dark, moonlit ground below me drew rapidly closer. I could imagine the large splatter my body would make on the pavements. More fear seized me.

I closed my eyes and released a long screamed.

"Got ya!" I first heard his voice. Then I realized that I was no longer falling. Slowly, I peeked my eyes open. Switzerland of all people had his upper half out the window and a hand around mine. I gaped- what was he doing here? "Shit, you're heavy," he grunted, trying to lift me up. When I barely rose three inches, he sighed and turned back into the building, yelling, "Poland! Get your lazy ass over here to help me!"

A quick, "totally bro" respond before two arms clothes in pink wrapped around his waist. I was speechless as they started to pull me up. I was starting to feel sleepy. The edges of my vision were a fuzzy black. "Don't let go," Switzerland ordered as I was lifted higher. "Let go and you fall. Understand?"

I nodded. My eyes were starting to feel heavy. My head was lighter than air.

There was a soft mumbling in the background. As I fought away sleep, the mumbling grew louder until it was a scream into my ear. "Seychelles! Do you understand?"

By then, I couldn't comprehend anything. Most of my vision was black. Against my control, my muscles loosened and my fingers unwrapped from his hand. His hold was lost and I was falling again.

I swore that I heard the midnight bells when I hit the ground.

MW: Well, we really can't talk about this due to spoilers. So-
MK: We are going to talk about the sequel Blue and Sisko mentioned way back.
MW: But-
MK: You've waited long enough.
MW: *sigh* Fine.
As we all know, I meant for this to be a series. Or at least when my dear colleagues revealed the fact it was. The original sequel idea that I was working on at the time excluded Sherry and Sadiq from the entire plot. However, those two have someone managed to wiggle their way back in as main characters.
So here is my dilemma- since Sherry is still a focus and main character, do you guys just want me to make this one really big fic or a trilogy as originally planned.
The upside is that people would not have to go around searching for each part.
The downside- as SEK says -is that people might be intimidated by a very long fic. But here in the anime section of fanfiction, people often perceive long fics as being the good ones.
Another downfall is that since I had planned for this to be three separate stories, the plot builds, climaxes, and falls three separate times. I can, of course, excuse this as being a "Part one, Part Two" situation and no one will have to worry.
The bad thing is that the setting for what is supposed to be the second installment changes drastically as well as many of the familiar characters, relationships, and quirks we see right now. They all come together for the last act, but that will still leave a big gap of their absence.

So it's your choice- yes to one fic or a trilogy one one. Voting is in the poll on my profile, though feel free to review with your thoughts. Even with your opinions, I might decide in the end that one way is better than another and just go with it. I'll keep ya'll updated.
And remember to review!

Funfacts

"Little Lion Man" Sadiq's theme song.

"Frost Iron fic!" For those who are not Avengers fans, Frost Iron (or Iron Frost) is the fan term for Loki X Tony Stark.

"You are easier to trick than I originally expected." Proof that Sherry X Sadiq is not canon.

Next Chapter: The end is upon us as Sadiq and Sherry make one last struggle for his soul.

**Review because you guys are awesome and awesome people review!**