A/N:
...My God... I seriously can't keep to a schedule... I blame school X3
Ah, well, I've got this for now~ .3. and I lied accidentally. The 'fun' really doesn't start until next chapter, but... this is all needed. No filler chapters for Sword~
...Yet
"You did what!" Francis screamed at Antonio, pacing worriedly around Arthur's kitchen as Gilbert helped bandage what was left of his arm. It would grow back eventually...
"I lost control a bit, okay?" Antonio growled without passion, eyes distant and lost.
"'A bit'?" Gilbert frowned, tightening the bandage and making Antonio wince. "This was more than 'a bit'."
Antonio scowled, the expression a foreign and uncomfortable mask on his face, but he'd grow used to it. "I know that - ouch!" he flinched again as Francis pinched his ear.
"Mon Ami, there will be horrible consequences for this. You have scared away our Host. This world can not stay stable on its own."
Antonio sighed. "Look, I know all this! And I'll fix this... Somehow. I'm a shadow; I can keep the world stable for at least a little while, and we'll find another Host. Or... Or maybe Romanito will come back..." he trailed off, tears dripping from his eyes. "R-Roma!" he whimpered, hiding his face in his remaining hand. His love, the one thing that mattered in his life had left him, possibly forever, and really, he could do nothing about it.
Francis and Gilbert looked at each other and sighed before wrapping their friend in a comforting hug. The fate of their world could wait; today, Antonio was most important.
Arthur watched from the doorway, shaking his head sadly. Getting a child involved had been a bad choice from the start.
.~.~.~.~.
Spain quietly padded down the cold stone hallway in his Master's castle, taking his time. He was in no hurry to tell his most recent news: the Host was gone, probably for good.
It wasn't that he was afraid of Master's reaction, no, he was afraid of Master's boss's reaction. He would not take the news as calmly as Master…
Spain found his master sleeping against one of the marble doorways. He wasn't in his master's room, but he was close enough to tick his superior off. He always enjoyed doing that; Spain didn't understand what was so fulfilling about ticking off a superior.
With a small mew, Spain nudged the brunette awake, kneading at his shoulder with gentle claws. Slowly, the man woke up, blinking sleepy eyes at the cat before grunting a hello. "What does my friend have to tell me?" he mumbled, stroking Spain's ear lazily.
Before Spain could say anything, the door that Master had been sleeping against opened, letting his head smack onto the ground. A pair of booted feet made themselves comfortable by Master's face.
"Heracles, have you gotten the information that I requested?" a man's silk-lined voice asked from above the boots.
Heracles looked up lazily into his employer's masked face and frowned. "Don't know yet… He has yet to tell me…" he sighed.
Sadik looked down at the brown and white cat with a smirk. "Well, care to share?" he asked.
Spain held back a hiss; it wouldn't do to anger him, and turned to Heracles. 'The host… is back in his world. I don't believe he's coming back this time.' He purred sadly, wrapping his tail around Heracles' wrist.
Heracles sighed and turned his face up to Sadik, repeating what Spain had told him. The masked man leaned against the wall and thought it over. This was horrible! There was no way that they could get a hold of the Host or his power without him being somewhere they could reach him; without her being somewhere on this world.
"Well this sets us back a bit, doesn't it?" Sadik mused. "We'll have to get him back to us somehow. However, with the world without a Host, the reality will be unstable, so it will be easier to get control of it, won't it?"
You see, Sadik's goal was to control the reality that he had been trapped in. With there being no Host, he could overthrow the measly excuse for a governing system and take the throne that should be the Host's! And, of course, he'd send some of his minions to bring the Host back, because where's the fun in taking over a planet without having unbelievable power?
"Heracles, send your little pet back onto the other world and have him wait for the Host's return." Sadik ordered, turning on his heels and walking back into his quarters. He had a hostile takeover to plan.
Heracles tried to protest but got a door slammed in his face. With a growl, he turned back to Spain, sending the cat an apologetic look. There was no way that he could go against Sadik, not with the leverage the older man had against him.
"You heard him…" Heracles sighed.
Spain sneezed in disgust at Sadik and wound himself around Master's legs comfortingly. He didn't mind the work, really, but he would rather be sleeping than leading a human into a disgusting man's trap.
.~.~.~.~.
Lovino trudged down the marble hallway of his new school, his shoes clicking against the floor as he followed the headmaster to his classroom and tried not to make his limp noticeable. Staring at his feet, he pulled at his shirt sleeves, tugging them far over bandaged arms. He had mixed feelings about being there. For one, he was no longer in the hospital. On the other hand, he was back to having contact with people that weren't nurses and physical and mental doctors.
He still wasn't sure what the better option was.
The headmaster knocked lightly on the classroom door before pushing it open and addressing the class.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," she apologized to the teacher. "But this is Lovino Vargas; he will be joining your class…" she continued talking, but Lovino didn't bother to listen, his attention trained on his feet once again. He could feel the eyes of the other students on him, and it terrified him to have their attention. He felt as if they knew what had happened to him; about the scars, about Ant-… about that man, about everything.
"Mister Vargas," the teacher's voice grabbed his attention, dragging his eyes over to the rest of the class, which wasn't staring at him like he thought they were. "You can take that empty seat over there." She said and turned back to the board to continue the lesson.
Lovino made his way over to the empty chair and sat down, trying desperately to sink into the floorboards. Unfortunately, that didn't work, and the boy next to him leaned over with a smile. "Hey! I'm Yong Soo! Can I call you Lovino?"
Lovino shrugged, really not interested in the hyper boy. "Sure, I don't care."
Somehow, whether Lovino wanted to or not, Yong Soo was able to drag him into little conversations throughout their classes. Although he would never admit it, he was actually grateful that he had someone one to talk to.
As he allowed himself to relax with Yong Soo and the other boys in his class, he allowed a small ray of hope to shine through. Maybe he could move on.
.~.~.~.~.
Antonio, Francis, Gilbert, and Arthur stared up at the rapidly darkening sky in a mix of horror and despair. Color was once again fading.
The sky took on the shade of slowly drying blood, casting the town into a brown-tinted twilight as the people of the town watched.
"So this is it," Gilbert mumbled. "The Host is really gone again."
Nobody answered; nobody wanted to confirm the truth.
The sound of approaching hooves took the town's attention away from the sky to a small fleet of black warhorses. Dismounting the lead horse was Sadik, dressed like a king of war.
Antonio growled and began to take his shadow form, stopping when Francis put a hand on his shoulder and leaving him with only black bull horns and a tail tipped with an axe blade. Around them, the crowd started to gather and Lili slipped away from her brother's bar to try and get a closer look at the horses. Antonio quickly pulled her over to them and kept her from going too close.
"Citizens," Sadik addressed the crowd. "As you all know, this world is once again without a Host. I, Sadik Adnan, have come up with a solution!"
This piqued the town people's interest. A solution to not having a Host? Impossible! They would just fade away like they always did when their Host disappeared.
"Well, go on, then!" Arthur called from within the crowd. "What is it?"
"You let me rule Sogno," Sadik continued simply, earning roars of outrage and confusion from the town. "Give Sogno a strong, powerful leader, and no longer will you have to put your fates in the hands and mind of a child!"
"He's insane!" a man next to Gilbert and Antonio yelled. "We need a young, imaginative, and human soul, not the guidance of a shadow!"
"Oh, and by the way," Sadik laughed maliciously as he signaled for one of his soldiers to shoot the man who spoke up. The bullet hit his forehead and his blood splattered on Gilbert and Lili's clothes and faces, the wet thud of the body hitting the ground covered by the screams of some of the villagers as the blood seeped into the cobblestones. "I won't take no for an answer," Sadik finished, talking over the crowd.
Antonio gently moved Lili to face his chest, protecting her from the sight in front of her as he glared at Sadik in a mix of fear and anger.
Let the man believe what he wished; it would only be temporary anyway.
.~.~.~.~.
"Man, Lovino, you're soaked!" one of the boys the Italian now considered a friend laughed, staring at the dripping brunette as the group walked back to the school.
Lovino smirked and shook his head, showering his friend with pond water. The boys had been playing soccer near the school's pond, and he had been the unlucky one chosen to get the ball out of the water when they had lost it.
"Seriously, you should just take it off," Yong Soo smirked. "You'll get sick."
Lovino stuck his tongue out. "Like a fucking cold could defeat me anyway."
"Aw, 'Vino won't strip for us!" another boy faked a whine.
"Come on, 'Vino, take it off!" the first boy laughed, tugging at Lovino's wet shirt.
"W-what? No!" Lovino tried to pull away, not wanting his friends to see his scars. He had hid them so well so far!
"Aw, Lovino, relax!" Yong Soo said, joining the others with trying to remove his shirt. "No shirt is better than a wet shirt. And it's not like you have breasts to hide!"
"Cut it out!" Lovino yelled in vain as his friends jokingly ripped the wet fabric from him. As the air hit his already chilled skin, he held his arms up to shield himself as the boys around him gasped. "L-Lovino…" one of them breathed, and without opening his eyes, Lovino knew what they were staring at.
Up and down his arms, large claw-shaped scars ran from his wrists to elbows. His back was practically ripped raw and scarred over. On his shoulders were the light pink remains of old, possessive bite marks, most faded, but a few still clear on his skin. He was grateful that they hadn't removed his pants and found the scars hidden on his legs as well.
Ignoring the boy's calls to wait, Lovino bolted for his dorm, memories blinding his senses as his legs moved on autopilot.
Images of his face flashed in front of him; his smile and his eyes, bright and loving, replaced immediately by green fire and living shadows and his own blood spattering the ground and seeping into the dirt.
And, speaking in his ear, level and hypnotic as it whispers over muffled memories of loving nothings and desperate wails was the voices of the doctors and therapists, accompanied by the constant ticking of a broken clock, saying that there is no 'Sogno'. There never was an 'Antonio'. He wasn't real. It was a horrible man who had tricked him into believing he was in love. 'Sogno' was the result of drugs that the man who was not Antonio gave him. He had been using him for wrong and horrible reasons, but he couldn't hurt him anymore.
In his mind, Lovino could see himself, broken and scared and fighting their logic. They were wrong; Sogno was real, Antonio was real! He had to go back and apologize, he had to-!
But, no, not anymore. They had broken him; more than any 'fake' man could with with his 'fake' love. Now, as he ran into his room and ripped the dripping clothes from his ruined body and hid himself away from the world in the bathroom, he believed what they wanted him to. He had been drugged, abused, molested, and maybe even raped by a man who tricked him into believing that maybe, just maybe, he was worth a damn.
He wanted nothing more than to forget, to make it all disappear, but every time he sees his own flesh, he was reminded of just how broken he was.
He wasn't sure how long he sat curled up against the bathtub only in his underwear before a light tapping on the door alerted him of Yong Soo's presence in the doorway, breaking him out of his thoughts.
Totally against his nature, he closed the door softly and quietly handed Lovino a pile of clothes – a piece offering – before sitting down across from him, leaning against the door.
He stayed silent as Lovino dressed himself, once again hiding himself. He kept the silence alive even has Lovino sat down again and hugged his legs to his chest, waiting for him to speak. The two just watched each other for a few minutes, Lovino half submerged in memories and Yong Soo trying to figure out how to begin.
Finally, Yong Soo's voice called Lovino's full attention with a few quiet words that seemed to echo in the small space. "…He was just like that, you know."
Lovino frowned and Yong Soo continued. "My brother, I mean. He was scarred like that, too… but not as bad. I noticed that one," he motioned at the straight, white scar on Lovino's hand "on your first day. I hoped that you weren't like him, but now I know that that hope was useless." He paused, watching Lovino for a reaction. "Kiku, that was his name, would disappear for hours every day. He would worry my other brother, Yao, sick but he always seemed… happier when he came back from wherever he went.
"Except for one day. One day he came back a lot earlier than he had ever before, covered in blood that I now suspect wasn't his own. He was babbling something about someone named Heracles – we still don't know who he is – and about needing to save him from something. Yao wasn't home and I tried to stop him from leaving but I couldn't. I tried to follow him, but he had disappeared. The only thing I could find was this," he left the bathroom to grab a book from his desk drawer. He returned and showed it to Lovino, making the Italian flinch as it filled his head with painful memories.
It was a leather notebook branded with a cherry blossom and a laurel branch on the cover. Hesitantly, Lovino took the book and flipped through the pages, finding them stained with long-ago dried blood.
"It's his," Yong Soo said quietly. "The blood, I mean… Do you have a notebook too?" his tone was remorseful with perhaps a bit of hope that he might finally understand what had happened to his brother.
Lovino shook his head slowly, eyes trained on the blood. "Not anymore," he said quietly. "It's gone. It's done with." His mind was reeling. Did this mean that everything was real; that the doctors were wrong?
Did this mean that he was real, too? Did he really… maybe…
Confused tears threatened to spill out of his eyes as he shoved the notebook back to Yong Soo. "C-can we just forget this?" Lovino begged quietly. He didn't want to think of this. He wanted to forget.
Yong Soo nodded and took the book back. "Yes… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up." He wrapped his arms around his friend comfortingly. "Just… promise to be careful? I don't want you to end up like my brother."
Lovino nodded and slowly relaxed in his friend's embrace. He would stay safe; there was no danger anymore.
But what Lovino didn't realize was that there was no way to truly escape your own mind.
Nobody got off that easily.
.~.~.~.~.
Antonio snuck out of Arthur's cottage one night, letting the red glow of the moon guide his nightmare form through the town, keeping himself hidden from Sadik's soldiers patrolling the streets.
Only when he was safely past the guards and in what remained of the flower meadow did he let his dream form take over again. His eyes were filled with pain and loss as he stared out over the dead and browned remains of flowers and tomato vines and leaves. The trees were mangled and twisted, as devoid of life as the rest of the meadow.
The shadow let himself sit under the useless, leafless branches of what used to be Romano's favorite siesta tree, the dead foliage making painful crunches under his feet.
For a while, he just sat beneath the tree, thinking about how Sadik's reign had ruined everything. Riots broke out daily, killing at least a person a day, usually more. Soldiers patrolled the town for anyone who opposed Sadik's rule.
Antonio and a few others had created a small alliance against him, but so far they were practically powerless.
Arthur had even tried to find a new Host, but the world didn't accept him, leaving him stranded and currently hiding in Arthur's cottage.
The whole fact that the world didn't accept the new Host confused Antonio greatly. With the world trapped in the nightmare state, it should have quickly taken to the boy's imagination, like it had done every time before.
As his mind dwelled on this, his eyes scanned the dead field, always on the lookout for any guards that might, for whatever reason, feel it necessary to patrol the field.
His eyes drifted over the bland mix of grey, black and brown all tinted red from the moon. Nothing was really interesting…
Oh? What was that?
Antonio's gaze locked on something small and scarlet and partly green, partially hidden under dead foliage not too far away in the field. The shadow blinked and rubbed at his eyes; maybe the light was playing tricks on him? But the scarlet object was still there, proudly showing off its bright color in a background of faded shades.
Slowly, the shadow got to his feet and walked over to the object, picking it up only to find it attached to a long green vine.
In his palm rested a small, red tomato, perfectly round and devoid of any bruises or imperfections. He broke it from the vine and immediately, the vine browned and died with the rest of the field, leaving him with a perfect star shaped stem and leaves on top. Antonio frowned at it for a minute. Why did this one survive while the others died?
The tomato made him sigh sadly. Romano used to love these…
Which was why he had created them here…
And they had all died when he left…
Antonio held the fruit tighter and closer to his chest, making sure not to break it. If it was still alive, did that mean that Romano…
Maybe…
Antonio bolted back toward the cottage, a small spark of something that had evaded him for too long starting to come to life in his chest.
Maybe there was hope for Sogno after all.
.~.~.~.~.
(Lovino Vargas - 20 years old)
Lovino stared lifelessly out the carriage window, watching the countryside fly by him. On the bench across from him, Feliciano chatted animatedly about pasta with nobody in particular. Or maybe he was talking to Lovino; he wasn't listening.
"...You gotta remember to boil the noodles for the right amount of time. Too little and they'll be hard, however too little and they'll all meld together and you'll be stuck with a burnt, soggy ball of pasta at the bottom of your pot..."
Lovino tuned him out easily (years of practice) and continued to watch the countryside go by. Damn horses; couldn't the go faster?
The Vargas brothers were on their way back to their childhood home: the Vargas Manor. Their grandfather had died a few years ago, leaving the building in the care of some of the remaining servants and now, against Feliciano's wishes, the brothers were coming back to get the house ready to sell. They had no use for it or the property; Feliciano was away at school and Lovino... Well, he sure as hell wasn't gonna watch over the damn house! Unlike his brother, the house held no memories that he wanted to keep alive.
"Ve~ fratello," Feliciano's voice broke through Lovino's thoughts. "How much longer until we get there?"
"Hell if I know," Lovino grumbled, not caring if they got there at all.
As the words passed his lips, the carriage came to a stop in front of a large brown-bricked mansion. Ivy vines clung desperately to the stones and faded red drapes hid the rooms behind the dirty-pained windows. Spanish moss hung like cobwebs from their poor oak hosts and an off white fence had been left to fade.
"It looks..." Feliciano started, staring at the manor.
"Old," Lovino finished in an un-amused tone. "It looks old."
"Don't be so negative, fratello!" Feliciano chided, hopping from the carriage and thanking their driver. "It just needs some love."
Lovino glared harshly at his younger brother. "Feli, no. I know what you're thinking and the fucking answer is still no!"
"But Lovi-"
"No buts!" Lovino growled as he jumped from the carriage. "We're only here until we sell the house, dammit! Not a fucking moment longer!"
Feliciano sighed in defeat, but his eyes were plotting. "Si, fratello, only until the house is sold."
"Damn right," Lovino nodded and the two of them walked up to the front door, the wood porch creaking under their feet.
"Luddy!" Feliciano squealed as the door opened to reveal Ludwig, the grandson of Romulus' late business partner; Feliciano's childhood friend and present day lover.
"Feliciano," Ludwig grunted as he tried to catch his lover as he threw his arms around his neck in a hug. "I - we - were not expecting you until the end of the week!"
"Well tough shit, macho potato," Lovino scowled, "We're here now, so deal."
Feliciano scolded him quietly for his language and Ludwig just nodded. "Right. Anyway, I'm sure that Elizaveta and Roderich want to see you..." he led the two inside where they met up with the family friends/servants. After being bored to death by ten minutes of small talk, Lovino left his brother to talk with his childhood family and wandered aimlessly down the hallways, running a hand across the walls as he went.
He peeked curiously into some of the unlocked rooms, finding mostly sheet covered furniture and molding books and paintings. Bored, he expertly picked the locks on a set of double door and pushed them open, the old hinges creaking painfully.
Coughing slightly at the newly upturned dust, he stepped into the new room to find a lone grand piano sitting in the middle of the floor. The sight of it brought up memories of his grandfather trying to teach him to play and his sour notes. He must have learned somehow, because he was pretty well known for playing…
As he though, little wisps of a dream of him playing for a blonde girl in an old tavern tried to surface. He subconsciously shoved them away.
Wiping dust off the bench and keys, Lovino took a seat, pressing down on the ivory and listening to the un-tuned note echo throughout the small room. Slowly, carefully, he began to play, the haunting melody seeming to jump from his fingers and fill the room with its crooked notes. As he played, the blonde girl flickered through his mind again, accompanied by a man with bright green eyes, but they both disappeared as the next off-key note chimed.
Somehow, over the melody, a small thump and a small scratching noise were heard from the large window. Lovino's hands slipped on the keys and as the sour notes faded, he slowly made his way over to the window.
Sitting outside on the ledge was a large, white and tan cat. Its fur was slightly matted and unkempt and it looked like it hadn't eaten in a few days, but its eyes still shone a bright, familiarly human, emerald green. Around his neck hung a small cross, now slightly rusted, but still a beautiful silver shade.
Lovino and the cat stared at each other for a minute, Lovino trying to remember why the cat seemed familiar and the cat just seemed surprised to see someone in the room.
"…Spain?" Lovino mumbled quietly. Could this seriously be his childhood pet?
The cat who was probably Spain flicked his tail as if he recognized Lovino. He calmly waked across the windowsill, watching Lovino watch him. Lovino slowly made his way to the window and cursed when he found that there was no way to open it and get closer to the cat.
Spain seemed to notice his unhappiness and Lovino could have sworn that he smirked as he jumped from the windowsill into a tree and down into the yard, looking back at Lovino every few steps, as if he wanted him to follow him.
Quickly, Lovino ran from the room and down the dirty hallways until he reached a door leading outside. Across the lawn sat Spain, watching him, almost like he was waiting.
But he was a cat. Cats don't think like that; humans do.
Or at least, that's what Lovino thought.
"Spain?" Lovino said quietly, slowly approaching the cat and trying not to spook it. "Spain c'mere…"
Spain meowed and got to his feet, walking away from him. He paused again and looked back at Lovino before making his way over to a rusted old gate. Lovino followed, stopping a few feet away and staring at the metal. Rusted over and covered in untamed vines and moss was the old gateway to the garden; Lovino's childhood escape from everything the manor had to give him. Slowly, he walked up to the gate, hand hesitating on the old lock. He frowned; there had never been a lock before…
Nonno must have put it there when he left for school years ago…
Lovino's curiosity started to get the better of him as he tried to see beyond the gate. Spain sat by his feet, watching him closely, as if he was waiting for him to do something. Lovino looked down at the lock, bouncing it in his hand slightly. It was rusted pretty badly, but maybe he could break it…
He looked around the yard for a moment, ignoring the part of his brain that was questioning just why he was trying to break it in the first place. As his eyes scanned the lawn, he found an old metal pole, probably broken from the fence somewhere, and grabbed it, bringing it back to the lock. Spain stepped away, as if he knew what the human was going to do.
With a deep breath, Lovino swung the pole at the lock until it snapped, the old metal crumbling. Spain looked between him and the now unlocked gate expectantly.
Throwing the pole away, Lovino approached the gate again, pushing it open and cringing at the nails-on-a-chalkboard creak that it gave. Spain's ears flicked in distaste before he slipped in front of the human and into the garden, once again leading him.
Curiosity ruling over reason, Lovino followed, tripping through overgrown vines and flower bushes, overripe fruit and vegetables breaking underfoot and surrounding him with a sticky sweet scent, making him dizzy. Spain didn't seem phased, walking with a purpose through the rotting flora until he reached a certain red fruit.
Lovino gazed over the rows of tomatoes, lost in dreams… or were they memories…
Whatever they were, Spain snapped him out of them as he tugged his pant leg with his teeth, drawing his attention to the ground where, in a pile of freshly dug dirt, a corner of something stuck out of the ground.
Frowning softly, Lovino bent down and picked the object up, rubbing the soil away. In his hands sat an old, dirty, and starting to mold notebook, with a lily and a carnation wrapped around each other branded on the cover. He traced the design with a shaking finger, the scars across his body itching as memories – no, dreams - …memories? – tried to push their way to the front of his mind. This notebook…
Shaking his head, eyes wide with fear, he stared to back away, hands shaking but not able to let go of the book. T-this wasn't possible. It was all fake; a dream! There was no way that this was real!
But that reminded him of Yong Soo and his brother from years ago. M-maybe it was real…
No, no it wasn't! It couldn't be! It wasn't real!
Spain growled quietly. This wasn't working like it was supposed to…
Time to take it into his own hands… paws then, right?
As Lovino was about to drop the book, he jumped at him, claws sinking into his wrist.
Lovino cried out and tried to dislodge him, dropping the book and allowing it to open up to a blank page. As Spain's claws sank deeper, drops of blood started to drip onto the paper, slowly making it glow.
Before Lovino could react, a tugging sensation in his gut took his breath away and sent him tumbling through a haze of bright colors, making him sick and dizzy with lack of oxygen.
Just as quickly as they appeared, the colors were gone and, with a loud, painful thud, Lovino's head hit something hard, crushing his senses and sending him into darkness.
A/N:
I... have nothing to add to this.
^^" review por favor? I love to hear what you think! .o.
Ciao~!