3
When England finally found them America and France were sitting on a bench in the front hall of the massive meeting building. He approached them slowly, allowing them to continue their hushed conversation. They weren't as sad as they had been, but they were still obviously upset.
When they leaned in England paused. They hugged for a good long while, France muttering something to America, to quiet for the Brit to hear and the American simply nodded into his shoulder, eyes closed and brow furrowed.
Those eyes opened slightly and immediately went over to where England was standing. He pulled back from the embrace and turned to face him. France looked confused until his eyes fell on England. Knowing that the quiet conversation had come to an end, England walked over to them and sat down on the bench next to America.
After a brief moment of silence he spoke. "Germany has decided that it would be best to stay here until this is all sorted out. We have been given an hour to unpack and settle in and then we should go back to the meeting."
He waited for a reply, but when none came he sighed and put a hand on America's shoulder. "Come on. We should go find you a room."
"No, it's okay," came the quiet response. "France can help me find a room. You need to get one too."
England threw a curious glance over at the two of them who looked back at him with eyes so sad it hurt to look at. He looked down at the carpet and nodded. It wasn't a surprise that the two of them had grown closer by the shared loss, but he would have liked someone to lean on too. They weren't the only ones who had lost Matthew.
With a deep breath he stood up and turned back to look at them. "Alright. I suppose I'll see you both back there then." America smiled slightly in thanks, but he didn't stand up. Instead he turned back to France and leaned in to whisper something in his ear. The Frenchman frowned, but he nodded.
"Go on ahead, l'Angleterre," he said. "We will see you in a while."
"All right," England said. Then he turned reluctantly and made for the elevators.
"Wait." He turned around. "The elevators are out of service," said America. "You'll have to take the stairs."
"Right. Thanks." He turned again and this time he headed for the stairs. Behind him he could hear whispering, but he forced himself not to turn around. After all, their secrets were for them to know and he didn't want to pry.
.oOo.
Japan paced back and forth in front of the elevators, looking calm and feeling worried. Where was he? A noise behind him alerted him to someone's arrival and he swung around.
"Germany-san?" he asked uncertainly. "Where are you? I have been waiting-" But the figure before him wasn't who he thought and his heart immediately cringed. "Oh, it's you," he said to the nation warily. "I'm terribly sorry, but the elevators are out of order."
"I know," came the reply.
"Oh. Well then, can I help you with something? Were you looking for someone?"
"I was looking for you, Japan."
A shiver ran up his spine and he frowned. "What is it you want then?"
"You know, don't you?" he asked. "You were going to tell."
"Hai, they should know."
The other nation shook his head and walked over to an elevator. He ran his finger along the part in the doors and then he did something odd. He pushed his fingers through the crack and began to pull. As he pulled the doors slid open and once they disappeared into the walls entirely he let go and peered down into the darkness.
"You know, I've always wondered what it looked like down there. Come here." Without looking back he beckoned Japan closer. Japan swallowed and against his better judgment he found himself obeying the request, walking closer and closer until he was standing next to the figure.
The nation pointed down the elevator shaft and Japan followed his finger. The empty shaft was dark as pitch and he could barely see the thick wires running down into the depths. He swallowed again and looked over to the other who appeared to be watching him with interest.
"I wonder," he said without taking his eyes off the eastern nation. "How deep it is."
Japan glanced back down the cavernous blackness. "I do not know."
"Well," he said with a smile. "Why don't we find out?"
With that Japan felt a pressure on his back as the nation shoved him towards the opening. Caught off guard, Japan lost his balance. With wide eyes he reached out for something to catch on to, but the other nation was keeping his distance. He grabbed hold of the wires, but as he fell they burned his hands and he was forced to let go. With barely a cry he fell into the dark and out of sight.
The other nation counted to himself until he heard something hit the bottom. "Huh," he muttered. "Thought it would be deeper."
Hello my dear readers.
Yes he killed him. Too bad, I liked Japan. I wonder who the killer could be? I bet you have some ideas. Drop in a review with your thoughts, predictions, suggestions, cries of amazement et cetera. Go on, you know you want to…
Random fact that has nothing to do with this: The Ringling Brothers were originally a family orchestra, not a circus.
Do you really think I own Hetalia?