Germany bit down on his lower lip, his breath caught in his throat. He was glad Italy was still fast asleep, deaf to he Game Master's announcement.
How could Prussia have died? It seemed unreal.
This must be what Italy was feeling when The Game Master announced Romano's death. Emptiness. Sorrow. Anger. Too many negative emotions to count.
"Germany?"
Germany glanced down to see Italy rubbing his eyes. "Go back to sleep." he whispered.
Italy pushed himself up, shaking his head. "I'm not tired anymore, Germany." he replied, putting his thumb back into his mouth.
With a sigh, the German sat up, glancing over to the side of the room.
"What's wrong?"
"Prussia..." Germany was trying his damn hardest not to start crying. "Prussia is.. he's... reached Platinum Tier..." He couldn't bring himself to say the word dead out loud.
Italy's eyes widened, tears filling them instantly. "No. H-He can't! Germany!" he flung himself onto the German, burying his face in his chest. "P-Prussia can't die! He too a-awesome for that!" he wailed.
Germany wrapped his arms around the sobbing Italian. "I'm really frightened, Italy." he admitted quietly, letting a few tears escape. "Prussia was the strongest man I knew and still he..."
"Germany," Italy cut him off, looking up. "W-We'll be alright." he said. "B-Because we have each other, remember?" He smiled, still managing to make it look convincing, despite the tears streaming down his face.
Wiping his own eyes, Germany nodded. "That's right." he replied. Damnit, how could he lose composure like that while Italy was still awake? One of them had to be strong in this situation, and it was clear that Italy couldn't do that.
Canada kept running through the empty halls, tears obscuring his vision. He could barely breathe. He ducked into the closest bedroom, closing the door and diving under the covers.
No.
No, no, no, no, no.
No!
Prussia can't be dead. He can't!
No, The Game Master was just confused. Prussia had beaten Hungary and was looking for him. All the Canadian had to do was wait for him.
Slowly, America's eyes opened. Everything was blurry and his head was pounding. He tried to pull himself into a seated position, but found his hands immobile. "The hell?" he croaked, tugging on his restraints.
"Oh, you're awake."
The voice drew his attention to the armchair in the corner, where Japan sat, watching over him. "I was wondering how long it was going to take." He got to his feet.
America continued to struggle against the ropes keeping him in place. "Japan, dude, untie me!" he said.
Japan gave a small smile. "I think we both know that isn't going to happen."
All the colour left America's face as he started to panic. "Bro, stop playing around. I'm losing feeling in my hands."
Japan didn't say a word. He turned his back on the distraught American, retrieving his katana from the side of the chair and slowly sliding the sheath from it. He tilted the katana, catching America's reflection in the surface of the blade. He let out a sigh as he turned back around. "You don't even know the trouble you've put me through, do you?" he asked, dropping his sheath and walking back towards the bed. "Most of my financial issues are your fault."
"I-I'm so—"
"Sorry is not good enough."
Tears sprang to America's eyes. What was Japan going to do? "Can you at least let one of my arms free?" he asked, quietly.
Japan raised an eyebrow. "Just one of your arms?"
"Yeah, just one."
With a quiet hum, another small smile made it's way onto Japan's face. "Okay then." He raised his katana, quickly bringing it down and slicing off America's right hand with ease.
America screamed in pure, brutal agony, bringing his bloodied stump to his chest. "What the FUCK, Japan?!" he screamed.
"Oh, I'm sorry." Japan's smile grew. "Did you want your hand, too?" He wiped America's blood from his katana, using the sheet that America was lying on. "Bakayarou. You really should have been more specific."
America continued to spew out curse words in every language he knew, hot tears flowing down his cheeks. He tucked his arm into his shirt, desperately trying to stop the bleeding, but to no avail. Without his other hand, there was nothing he could do.
Japan stepped up onto the bed, standing over the panicked American. "Do you remember what you use to call my 'cultural enlightenment'?" he asked. He placed the tip of his katana against America's lips, slowly easing it into his mouth, settling it on his tongue. "When I think about it, that was really just you shoving your culture down my throat." he muttered, darkly.
America's eye widened as he realised what Japan was about to do.
"Let the punishment fit the crime." With that, Japan thrust his katana down America's throat, keeping a dark glare fixed in place as he watched the American choke.
The more America struggled, the more the blade tore his gullet, but he couldn't help it. He gagged and spluttered, spraying blood all over his face.
Japan laid a foot on America's chest before yanking his katana back, slicing up more of his throat. He jumped down off the bed and left the room without a word, leaving America to die.
America couldn't take much more. The pain was unbearable, and all he wanted was to let his eyes slip closed, but he didn't want to die. He coughed up more and more blood until, finally, he lost the battle and fell limp against the bed.
America has reached Platinum Tier.
Canada squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head.
No.
Not America too.
Everyone he loved was dying. First France, then England, now America, too.
"But not Prussia." he reminded himself. "Never Prussia."
No, Prussia was still out, looking for him. And any moment now he would push open that door and say; "Hey, Birdie. There you are!"
Then Canada would run up to him in tears, crying about how he thought he was going to die and how worried he was. Prussia would just laugh obnoxiously loud and say that he worried too much. "The Great Prussia is too awesome to die, after all."
Canada peeked out from under the blanket, watching the door.
Any moment now...
Japan kept moving forward, feeling weak. He had one hand on the wall, holding him up as he struggled through the hall.
Still, he was satisfied. China and America were gone, he needn't worry about them any longer.
Giving a soft groan, he fell against a door, pushing it open and tumbling inside with a startled cry.
"Japan!"
In an instant, Italy was at his side, a concerned look on his face. "Japan, are you okay?"
Japan gave a weak smile. "No, Italy. I am not." he replied. His breath became ragged and he felt his heart rate steadily decreasing.
Italy gasped, looking into Japan's eyes.
Japan's totally black eyes.
"What happened?"
Japan craned his neck around to look at Germany, who was walking towards him and Italy. "Nothing important."
Germany.
He has also caused a lot of trouble for you, hasn't he?
Japan shook his head. No, he couldn't fight Germany, especially not in this state.
"Y-You're not going to... to die, are you?" asked Italy, his eyes watering.
Japan gave a slight nod. "I have served my purpose." he whispered. He took one last shuddering breath before his eyes closed.
Japan has lost The Game.
"J-Japan!"
"Italy!" Germany grabbed Italy by the upper arm, pulling him into his chest.
Italy didn't resist, he just fell limp in Germany's embrace, sobbing loudly. "I-It's not fair!" he cried. "All of my friends... it's not fair!"
Germany sighed, closing his eyes and burrowing his nose into Italy's hair. He was right. It wasn't fair. That's when Germany started to regret pulling Italy so close. With their bodies pressed together, Germany could no longer pretend that he wasn't shaking.
"Oh, Canada~!" Hungary chimed, practically dancing through the halls. "Come out, come out wherever you are!" She kept opening doors and peeking in, looking for any sign of the Canadian.
Where could he be?
"You don't think I'm going to hurt you, do you?" she called, opening a door. She frowned when Canada was nowhere in sight. "No, no, no, dear. I don't want to hurt you!" She moved along to the next door, pushing it open. "I just want to kill you, that's all."
Meanwhile, three doors down, Canada was shaking, clutching the covers.
What was he going to do? If he ran, Hungary would catch him. If he stayed, she'd find him.
He flinched as he heard the door two rooms away bang against the wall. Oh no, she was so close.
Taking a deep breath, he moved out of the bed and onto the floor, careful not to make any noise. He slid under the bed, hoping the space between the mattress and the floor was narrow enough to keep him hidden.
BANG!
The door to the next room flew open, making Canada flinch yet again. Here it comes...
His door was soon kicked open, revealing Hungary.
Canada could only see up to her waist. He did not like what he saw.
Her skirt was ripped and splattered with blood. Prussia's blood. Her hatchet was dangling down between her fingers, more blood dripping from it's blade.
Taking a deep breath, Canada closed his eyes. If he were to die here, he wanted to remember the Hungary he knew, not the blood-craving maniac who was about to rip him apart.
Immaculate hair with a pretty flower fixed in place on the right side. Beautiful, flowing dresses which suited her perfectly, despite her tomboyish nature. The way she spoke in a sweet, gentle tone, calling everyone 'dear' or 'sweetie' or 'darling'.
The real Hungary.
He was snapped out of his daydream when he heard the next door opening. It worked. Hungary didn't see him. Better yet, she'd left the door open.
All he had to do now was wait until she was far enough away, then he could run in the opposite direction without risking her hearing the door opening.
He listened carefully as the door two rooms away opened.
Three, four, five. Still not enough.
Six, seven, eight. Almost.
He slipped out from under the bed, making his way over to the door. He stayed pressed against the door, listening to the sound of banging doors as it drifted into the distance.
Now was his chance.
He dashed through the door, tearing down the hall in the direction Hungary had come. He could barely see through the tears in his eyes.
He ran and ran and got so far until he tripped, sending his glasses skidding across the floor. He pushed himself up onto his knees, wiping away his tears. He was about to search for his glasses when something caught his eye.
He didn't need to have his glasses on to recognise just what was lying in front of him.
"Prussia..." He crawled forward just a little, resting his head on his boyfriend's chest. "I'm sorry." he whispered, even more tears dripping down his face. "I'm so sorry."
After managing to calm Italy down, Germany had guided him out of the room. They were walking down the hallway, Italy still giving a few quiet sobs now and again, looking for Hungary and Canada.
That's when it hit Germany that there really were just the four of them left. Fourteen nations had been dwindled down to four so quickly.
Germany paused mid-step when he felt Italy tug on his sleeve. "Germany, did... did you see Japan's eyes?" he whispered, still looking at the floor.
"Yes." Germany frowned. "I did."
"What was wrong with them?"
"I don't know, Italy."
"He said that he had served his purpose... What do you think he meant by that?"
Germany sighed. "I don't know, Italy." he repeated.
They fell into silence once again before Italy sighed. "I'm tired again." he whispered.
Germany frowned. Normally, he wouldn't think about letting Italy rest again, but in all honesty, he was getting tired again, too. "Let's find another bedroom."
Italy nodded, putting his hand on the nearest doorknob and opening the door.
Inside was not another bedroom.
The room was reminiscent of a prison cell with it's grey, stone walls and chilly atmosphere, and hanging from the walls in chains were—
Germany pulled Italy back into his chest before he could see, but it was too late.
Belarus.
France.
Japan.
The bodies of The Corrupt was what hung on the walls.
Italy shook, unable to even cry.
"Oh, hello."
End Note: Before anyone says that Japan is OOC here, I'd like to remind you that he is corrupt.
I'm sorry this took forever, but as some of you may know, I accidentally overwrote this chapter and had to rewrite it all. I was so annoyed and upset that I was thinking of discontinuing the series, but before I could delete the chapter planner (yes, I wrote a planner to help me along. Why? Because I have the worst memory and would have forgotten all the awesome scenes I'd thought up) I received a PM from Blonde Sunflower Lover and it snapped me out of my self-loathing. So I suggest you all thank her/him for cheering me up and getting me to rewrite this chapter. Unfortunately, this is a little shorter than the original. I'd say by about 200 words, but I think it's decent enough.
Also, I don't know if you guys have seen it, but there's a deleted scene from last chapter on my profile, so if you want to read it, please do so, especially the GerIta fans.
Translations:
Bakayarou – Stupid bastard (Japanese)
Sneak peaks
"I've never hit a woman before, but—"
"You should have run away with me."
"He died protecting me. Don't you get it?"
"If I hadn't have killed him, he wouldn't have let me kill you."
"Once more for luck, dear."