Decrypting Reality (Hetalia)

Chapter Six

It was the day America went missing. That's quite odd. Was it hours before he went missing? I analyze the photo from head to toe. I have to see where he took it, but I can't make out where they are. I do, however, remember a phone call between him and Italy, but that could be totally different and unrelated to this photo. I wonder if Italy was the last person America talked to before he went missing...
I haven't questioned Italy yet. I should go and do that right now. I get up from my desk chair and run out of my office.

~

I bang my fist on the door. The door opens with a confused Italian standing there. Once he sees me, he smiles. "Hi, Canada! Were you the one banging on my door? You kind of scared me there."

"Yeah, sorry. I need to ask you some questions. It's urgent."

"Sure! What's wrong?"

I pull out America's phone and pull up the photo. I show him the photo. "Where were you two when you took the photo?" I ask. "Oh. America and I were hanging out at Romano's place! Why do you ask?"

"The date, Italy. Look at the date. It's the day America disappeared. Very suspicious, if I must say." Italy stops smiling. "Listen," He says, his voice growing serious. "I have nothing to do with America disappearing. Me and him were just hanging out that day. He left after a while. America is my best friend. I wouldn't do anything to hurt him or his family." I actually feel bad for accusing Italy like that. He's right. Why would Italy of all people cause America to suddenly disappear? Italy is a kind, gentle soul who wouldn't hurt a fly. He even yelled for Germany to help him because of a cat was licking his face. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience. I didn't mean to make it seem like I was accusing you."

"It's okay. I forgive you. I understand that you're upset because you're worried about America."

"I really am. Thanks anyways. Bye."

"See you later." Italy shuts the door. I should go back to America's house and try to find more evidence. I don't think I'm finding much questioning folks with only one photo. I did get suspicious of poor Italy. At least I apologized for it.

~

I stand in front of the house and stare. I start to remember about that loud bang from outside. I shiver just thinking about it. Maybe it actually was a bird? I shake my head. No, Canada. That's stupid to even think that. There's no way a bird could've made that sound. I'm probably just trying to make excuses to not freak myself out. I walk into the back yard to where I heard the source of the sound earlier. I notice something strange in the bushes. I get on my hands and knees to look. "What the hell is that?" I reach into the bushes and pull out the strange object. It's a box. I get up and look at the box in my hands. I don't remember seeing a box? Did I miss it or something? How did it get here? I notice the small padlock on the box. It's locked.

I need a key. I walk towards the back door and open it. I shut the door and immediately start looking around for a key. Unfortunately, I can't find one. Which is really odd. Shouldn't there be a key or something for this thing? I decide to go with Plan B. Prying the box open. I forcefully rip the lid open and the lock flies off the box. I wonder why I didn't think of this before? I'm stronger than a wooden box. I look in the box to find some photos. I pick them up and place the box on the kitchen counter. The photos were of America. They appear to be pictures taken from a polaroid camera.

I shift through the photos. Some of them were of me and him, smiling. Some were of France and him, then him and England. I smiled at them. I'm probably going to keep these. I shift through that photo and my smile drops. What the...?