(A/N: Hi, happy Friday!! It's feels awesome to be writing for you all again.
I'm also sorry for the whole confusing ordeal that went on a while ago, just now that I have complete access to my story again (I made sure to save a copy of my chapters somewhere else too aha). You all were so patient and kind and supportive that I thought you deserved this.
I was supposed to take a break and not publish until February but, alas, just as I expected from myself I couldn't help but post this. Even without the month long break, but I will admit that I definitely feel way more ready and prepared, so that's great.
I hope your day is going fine, and if it isn't, this sweet lil chapter is just for you~ (Also this is actually 5,500 words I'm sobbing-)
Expect the next chapter to be ready by the end of January or early February. Thanks for your continued support, and I hope you enjoy!!)
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"You belong somewhere you feel free."
-Tom Petty
"Satisfaction in life arises from knowing you are exactly where you belong. Discontented people strive to be somewhere else or someone else. Contentment comes from many great and small acceptances in life."
-Unknown
"Belonging starts with self acceptance. Believing that you're enough is what gives you the courage to be authentic."
-Brené Brown
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|Reader's POV|
As expected, the countries were as fussy as ever. You know, I'm not even going to complain since they literally saved me from being possessed by some unknown demon girl.
"For the last time France, no thank you. I'm not hungry. I'll eat the soup later."
"Please?"
"...Dang it. You and your pout. Hand over that flipping bowl right now."
I angrily took the bowl and slurped at the soup loudly. I blinked for a few seconds and failed to suppress my sigh of alleviation. "This is...this is amazing!" I grinned from ear to ear. Food always seemed to cheer me up no matter how awful I felt. "Thanks a lot, France."
"You're welcome, mon cher~" He happily skipped off.
Once I basically inhaled the entire bowl of soup, I snuggled further into the covers of the bed I laid on, smiling softly.
Thankfully, all was slowly going back to normal. A little while ago Japan, Italy and Germany stayed by my bedside and told me everything that happened when I was...preoccupied. Hearing it all-the tense, dull atmosphere paired with the constant, nerve-wracking feeling of being left in the dark, the unusual jitteriness of those that were relatively calm and collected, and even the energetic ones crumpling into obedient silence-it was next to impossible to imagine it. I couldn't help but frown slightly.
"That all happened just because I was gone?"
Japan nodded solidly and Italy lips shifted into a beam. "Why, of course, ragazza~!"
"You've been a big influence to us, (Name). A good one." Germany gave an affectionate pat of my forearm, blanketed by the warmth of my bedsheets. "We can't help but worry about you."
"Frau?"
"Hm?" My head snapped up and I instinctively moved to sit upright. "What's up, Prussia?"
"Relax, relax." All the albino had to do was give a light push of my shoulders and I fell back into my pillow. "Just wanted to check on you." A shrug of his shoulders, then came Prussia's famous smirk. "Rough day?"
"You could say that..." I found that the end of my sentence sounded more disappointed than it was meant to be. I was aware that he was trying to make a joke but a bit of exasperation and fatigue slipped into my voice. Without even noticing it, a tiny mob of thoughts began to beat desperately to try and slip through my weakened defenses as I chided myself, 'Why did you do that? You sound so tired and weak, get a grip! Keep it all to yourself, you're just trying too hard to get his attention.'
It hurt. It really did. It hurt way more than the pain wrapping around my stomach and back that was made thanks to the Oni; the barely noticeable stinging sensation that I had felt before was starting to grow, becoming a roar of discomfort and utter agony.
The voice...was growing...
"Bella."
Then came the words of the one and only Romano. The memory came clearly, and I could almost picture it in my mind. The sentence rolled so effortlessly off his sharp, cold tongue, yet it still echoed with raw emotion and red fiery passion.
"Don't ever tell yourself, or let anyone tell you for that matter, that you can't let your walls down and be fragile for a little while."
I breathed. Sometimes all you have to do is breathe.
My grip on the spoon eased up on its own and I sat upright. I had been clutching the empty bowl once filled with soup. I scooped it into my palm and scooted to the edge of the bed, leaning down. My face drew closer and closer to the floor, the wood floor turning into a pitch black, spiraling swirl that looked like a girl. A girl with her mouth wide, taunting, eyes wide and bloodshot, always watching.
"We can't do this without you, (Name)."
Oh...that's right.
I slammed the bowl down onto the ground, covering the bottom half of the girl's face.
If I can't deal with some lame demon, then who am I?
For a split second I was about to lose my balance, but I reached my hand out just in time. I pressed my fingertips to the ground, listening to the soothing essence of Spain's sincere words to lift me up from the brown cocoa colored tiles. Recovering from my bout of random anxiety, I stumbled backwards and dropped rather awkwardly into the comforting arms of my blankets.
"Frau??"
Thump, thump went my heart as it pulsed blood at an excruciatingly fast rate.
"What's wrong? What happened?!"
My palms were incredibly, uncomfortably sweaty, my lungs were closing up and-
His hands clamped firmly around my shoulders. He leaned in close to my face and stated,
"(Name)."
"...Prussia." It came out as a feeble whisper. That was all I could manage.
He whisked his red eyes towards the ground, dipping his head. I gazed silently at the crown of his snow white hair before he pulled away and asked me the dreaded question,
"Are you okay?"
The dreaded question. I could either lie or not. I was tempted to say 'I'm okay', but was that the truth? What if I didn't know what the truth was? I mouthed the two words under my breath, promptly forcing down my lips into a straight line afterwards. I hadn't even said them aloud yet it already felt venomous on my mouth.
While I was contemplating how to respond to such a simple question, Prussia spoke for me. He gave a lengthy exhale and pulled, what felt like my lifeless body, into his arms. He then quietly mumbled into my ear, as if he were going to tell me a secret, like I didn't already know the answer to that obvious question.
"I'm no doctor...
But you're not okay, are you?"
I pressed my face further into his chest and clenched my eyes shut. "No...I'm not."
I didn't feel like crying, I didn't want to. Chills rolled like waves along my arms, but it didn't swallow me in its cold grasp. The darkness tempted to grab me by the legs and drag me into another abyss of black that I couldn't escape from-but it didn't. It couldn't even when it tried.
Not when I was safe in his arms.
When the butterflies in my stomach relaxed, I stood up, said a short goodbye and thanks to Prussia before picking up the empty bowl and walking briskly towards the kitchen.
'Keep moving, keep moving, just keep moving...'
I placed the bowl into the sink and just when I was about to exit the kitchen, the door suddenly swung open. With the speed of a lightning bolt, I reacted naturally, jumping backwards and slamming into a cabinet door. Stabbing right at the spot the Oni's claw had dug into my back.
Fan-flipping-tastic.
I tried to move, but the pain was so harsh that it felt like I was paralyzed. I pressed a hand to my throbbing wound, searing painfully into my side. My breaths came out choppy and heavy. I resorted to leaning against the wall for support.
"(Name)? Um, we've got a surprise...for..."
My eyes darted upward in surprise. Canada's expression morphed from excitement to worry within a split second.
He muttered a long string of incoherent words to himself as he rushed over to me, scanning my body language thoroughly. He wrapped his arms around my legs and shoulders, being sure to steer clear from my back and stomach area. He cradled me into his chest bridal style and carried me with great caution onto the counter.
"Okay, okay...u-uh, hold on...I'll..." Canada looked around, his flailing arms telling me that he was definitely panicking.
I reached out and grabbed his arm, locking eye contact with him. We exchanged silent nods.
Silent encouragement equals silent trust. Nothing more, nothing less.
I gestured uneasily to my backpack and he returned almost immediately with the strap slung over his shoulder. He set it down and rummaged through it. Just when I had swallowed back the dizzy, sickly feeling in my throat and opened my lips to help guide him, Canada fished out the exact material that was needed: a roll of gauze bandages.
I clamped my mouth shut and obediently held up the bottom half of my hoodie so he could work properly. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing. He first began to unravel the old, blood stained bandages, imprisoning my torso quite tightly. Canada pushed those off to the side and took apart the roll of gauze bandages.
Recently I've been paying close attention and noticing the little things about the countries, like how Spain always seemed to regularly smell like tomatoes all the time or even how hilarious I find it when America mutters lyrics to funny songs like, 'Can't Touch This' or, 'Never Gonna Give You Up' under his breath when he's nervous.
Right now, since all I could do was try my best to concentrate on anything but the sore, twinging discomfort, I was especially entranced with Canada's meticulous handiwork. All of the countries for some reason relied on me when it came to injuries. How I even knew about medical issues in the first place, don't ask me because I still have no clue. Whenever I have to help someone it's usually during a battle so my movements are swift and sometimes even sloppy. Naturally, I couldn't help but marvel over the precise and neat way his fingers moved. Mine moved quickly, yes, but too quickly for my mind to comprehend, much less my fingertips.
I've seen and watched a lot of the countries fight, primarily Prussia, Italy, Germany, France, China, Russia and Japan. Prussia's skill with his sword but how he lacks agility and speed, how Germany exceeds in strength but needs to work on mobility; I've analyzed about half of the countries' strengths and weaknesses. But...Canada....
An interesting case. I admired with great wonder over his dainty and delicate workmanship with the bandages. He even made sure to loosely tie the bandages around my waist and across the scratches on my back, leaving room for air. So was he a medic? I've hardly ever gotten the chance to see him in battle. As I pondered over this, he stood up and started to search the cabinets and drawers.
"What are you looking for?"
Canada stayed momentarily quiet before lifting up a roll of plastic. "This."
I was even more shocked. He walked back over and casually draped it over the bandages, oblivious to my internal puzzlement.
"That's-"
"-To keep the wound moist and clean. That ultimately makes the injury heal faster because it makes promotes healing growth and a quicker birth rate of new cells."
My jaw dropped. "How...did you know that?"
Canada laughed and to turn on the faucet to lather his hands with the water. "Haha, so that's why you were making that confused face." He turned it off and ran his palms along a nearby towel. "Well, truthfully...I learned it from you. From watching you."
He looked at me when I went quiet, his face exploding. "O-Oh my, that sounds really creepy now that I think about it, s-sorry..."
I giggled, relaxing and leaning back on the counter. "Canada, calm down." I smirked a little. "But yeah that did sound weird."
He huffed, giving a pout. "What I meant to say was that I just so happen to observe you whenever you treat people's injuries after battles. Specifically, that time you had to treat Italy with that severe wound. I was so impressed, I would've crumbled under pressure that great." Canada stepped forward and chuckled as he gestured to his mouth. "You tend to mumble things under your breath whenever you're in your concentrated mode."
"Yeahh, I do that when I'm a little stressed." I rubbed at my wrist and awkwardly snickered. "My brain just gets so overloaded that...well..."
"The words escape from your brain and floods through your mouth without you even noticing?"
"Exactly."
"I know." Canada smiled. "I'd definitely know because I do that a lot, too."
I bobbed my head, matching his smile. He was an even person to talk to, I liked that about him.
"Can I ask you something?" When he nodded, I went on, "I haven't really seen your fighting style. Do you fight? Do you use a weapon?"
"Yes, of course I fight. And I use a bow and arrow."
"...No way!" I smacked a hand against my forehead. "That's where that precision came from. That awesome eye hand coordination. Wow...a bow and arrow...that sounds cool."
"Thank you for the compliments, (Name), but it's hard." Canada admitted with a sigh. "It takes a lot of concentration. I've learned to block out the noises on the battlefield but sometimes certain sounds shatter my focus. Like gunshots."
"Heh, America?"
Canada rolled his eyes playfully. "The guy is already so noisy, does his weapon really have to match his loud personality?" I burst out laughing. "What? It's just a question."
After calming down, I shuffled through my backpack and gulped down a pain reliever pill, gratefully taking the glass of water Canada offered me. I allowed myself to breathe before setting the cup down
I placed my hands on my hips. "So how about we make a deal?"
"...Wha...What do you mean?"
"How about you teach me how to use a bow and arrow, and I could teach you a few things with my sword? My hands are really shaky so maybe I could learn something from you. I've also got some other tips in mind I could give you."
"About what?"
"Confidence!" I paused and shrugged. "I'm definitely not the best person for the job, I mean on some nights I cry myself to sleep and hide my problems and crippling anxiety and depression with bad puns and memes, but y'know," I looked down at the ground and gave a 'hearty laugh'. "hA HA HA-
Just kidding-not really-but seriously. I just feel like it wouldn't be right of me to let someone as amazing as you remain being so pessimistic and negative. Deal?"
Canada shook my extended hand and smiled. "What's the worst that could happen?"
"That's the spirit!" Since I was already there, I clasped Canada's hand, giving me the balance to slide off the counter and onto the floor without tumbling over. "Thank you, Canada. I have no idea what I would've done without you."
"Oh, it was nothing-"
"I strongly disagree. It was something." I insisted. "You did it all by yourself."
"You're welcome, (Name)." Canada grabbed my bag and he waved me off, telling me that he could handle it. "/...I really think it was all you, though. I don't really know much about medical stuff and-"
I rolled my eyes and advanced toward him, standing on my tiptoes to slap my palms against both of his cheeks.
"I beg to differ."
"Ow..." Canada winced and touched my knuckles with his hand.
"Well, you deserve it, person-with-unsensible-self-confidence-issues."
"Unsensible?"
"Yeah, unsensible. You're a really unsensible person." I craned my neck up to stare him dead straight in his violet eyes. "You're intelligent, talented, clever, sweet, kind, a good listener and literally adorable. And the fact that you can't see that..." I lifted my hands and smacked them across his cheeks again, squishing them. My bottom lip jutted out as I gave a exaggerated pout, meant to stimulate humor. "It frustrates me, Canada."
A blush burst and spread across his face. I don't think it was because I had hit him.
Canada practically jumped backwards and raised his arms in front of him, waving them around frantically. He tried to talk, his tongue literally stumbling over the words. He fiddled with his fingers, then pointed finger guns at me. "Umm...Th-That's a very flattering thing to say, (Name)."
I grinned, kind of satisfied to see him so worked up. His face was entirely flushed and he fanned his hands to cool down his rosy red cheeks.
"Canada?" I wildly waved my hand across his face. "You alive?"
"cANADA BRO! Oh, dudette, what's up?" America poked his head inside the kitchen. "Hahaha, did you break him??"
"I don't know?!"
"Don't worry 'bout it. It happens sometimes when he gets too many compliments and his pessimistic brain rejects them and he malfunctions. He'll be fine." He walked over and calmly flicked his pointer finger against Canada's forehead.
Canada jolted in place and glanced around. "Huh? Oh, right." He looked at America and exclaims, "Shoot, I almost forgot! The reason I came here in the first place. Do you mind coming with us to the table outside?"
I nodded slowly. "Yeah? Sure, why not."
Following alongside America and Canada, I hobbled over to the long rectangular table where the countries held meetings. At the moment there wasn't any meetings taking place, yet France and England stood talking to one another. When they saw me, France gave a bright smile and a wave, and England a polite, acknowledging tilt of his head.
"Salut, dear (Name)! What in the world took you so long, Matthieu?"
"I just had to help (Name) with something, it's okay." He waved his hand dismissively, a signal to the end the conversation.
"Hey, dudette!" America suddenly piped up.
"...Yes?"
"You look like you're shivering, are you cold??" From the way he beamed, I felt like he was going to tell me a joke or pun of some sort.
"Yeah, I guess so." I answered truthfully-I actually did find myself quivering a little.
"Well, we've got just the thing for you~" France stated, winking.
The three exchanged quick glances, puzzling me even more. England took his hands out from under the table, which I only noticed now had been there ever since they first spotted me. I didn't get to see the ball of fabric in his hands before he whisked it over my head and onto my back.
"Surprise!!"
A...a cape.
"You...you guys made this..." I looked up at them in amazement. "For me??"
"No, we made it for Germany." America slung an arm around my shoulders and grinned. "Of course it's for you!"
"I first came up with the idea when you complimented me on my capelet." France smiled and tugged at his own blue capelet.
"Wait, (Name)!"
"Yeah? Need anything, France?"
"Actually...You said you liked my capelet, oui?"
"Mm-hmm."
"What's your favorite color?"
"Hmm...(F/C)."
"Ah, okay!"
I slipped the cape off my shoulders and examined it in my hands. Just as France had hinted to me before, the fabric was colored a nice shade of (F/C). It was a hooded cape that stopped at my knees so I was able to move around freely in battle.
"France and Canada stitched everything together," England gestured to himself. "I conjured up all the materials with a little bit of magic-"
"And I designed everything!" America announced proudly. "With the help of Iggy's magical assistance." He added, earning an eyeball roll from England.
"But of course, it's not just a regular cape, no, no, no." France began, nodding to England.
The Brit leaned back in his chair. "I added a few charms to the design. I converted the exterior of the cape into a material that, when hit by a strong outside force, it hardens and acts like a shield momentarily. But even with this extra protection, the interior remains as light as a feather." England explained.
He bent forward and lifted the left part of the cape. "There's also two small pouches sewn on the inside. I already put a bundle of gauze bandages in the first for emergencies, and the second one you can fit any small object that you might need on the battlefield. In case you won't have time to get it from your backpack." When he finished, he met America's gaze.
America popped up in front of me and said, "I've noticed that you have trouble helping people from afar. You saved France by throwing your sword, but on the battlefield, it's too rare to lose your only weapon."
The four of us stared unblinkingly at him. He pouted childishly, saying defensively, "What? I can be observant, too."
"But, anyway!" America swept the right side of my cape into his hand, letting the outside part drape over his palm so the inside part was visible. He pointed excitedly to the two triangle shaped, leather knife holsters etched into the fabric. "You can store a few knives or daggers in here. You can also use these for short range battles, if you need to."
"I also happened to have a few pieces of leather that I wanted to put into good use." England picked up something from off the floor and reached forward, buckling it onto my waist. "A belt."
"It's a police style kind of duty belt." Canada described. "It has a sword sheathe attached to it, so you don't have to keep awkwardly tucking your sword in your belt, a gun holster and extra pockets for things like beer, Onigiri and small medical supplies. Oh, and there's a bottle of pepper spray, too. Just in case."
"So?" France, along with England, America and Canada, asked anxiously, "Do you like it?"
I covered my mouth with my hand, still stunned. "Jeez, do you even have to ask the question?" I quickly put on my cape, buttoning the strips of fabric around my neck that kept the cloak on my back. "Heck, of course I love it!" I spread my arms wide, unable to conceal the goofy smile on my face. "Oh, come here already." I took huge, brisk steps toward the four and pushed them together into a fierce group hug. "You guys are awesome." I mumbled quietly into the crook of Canada's arm.
"Yess! Mission accomplished!"
"I-It wasn't a big deal-"
"You pricked your finger twice, Canada, dude."
"That's because you pushed me..."
"I'm very glad you liked it, (Name)."
"Anything for you, mon cher!"
Once we untangled ourselves, I said once more, "Thank you. Really."
France laughed and mussed my hair. "No need to thank me."
"You should go and get some rest now, (Name)." England said with a tiny smile. He was practically radiating, looking very pleased and contented.
"Mind if I escort you?" America raised his arm.
I chuckled and snaked my arm around his. "I'd like that."
As he led me toward the beds, his grin never seemed to falter. "Cool, right? I wanted France to make me one but he said no." He gave a disappointed sigh. His grip around my arm tightened ever so subtly. "I wish I could be a superhero like you, (Name)."
"Like me?" I stopped, his movements mirroring mine. He turned, and I caught his eye. The beam on my lips melted into a sincere smile. "Pfft, America...you're already a hero in my eyes. All you have to do is make others to realize that you're a hero, too, with or without the cape."
".
..
...
Dudetteee-! How are you so cool?!" America spoke in an exaggerated manner, rolling the 'e' in 'dudette' and pausing between every word for emphasization.
"Whatever you say." I giggled at how silly he sounded.
"No, really." He started to move again and I followed him. "You're like a butterfly."
"How?"
"You don't recognize how amazing you are as a person because you can't see your wings. But everyone around you?" America angled his head to look at me. "They can perfectly see just how incredible you are.
I reddened and attempted to laugh off his really endearing compliment. "Uh...I-I guess..."
"You'll see." He shrugged casually. "Or, at least, I hope you do."
America dropped me off at the beds and left me to attend to something else. I thanked him again for the cape before he walked off, leaving me alone. I took off the cape, folding it and storing it safely alongside my belt.
After slipping into the warm covers of my bed, my eyes were about to flutter closed until I heard, "Ragazza? How are you doing?"
"Good." I glanced up at Romano's olive eyes. "I really missed you guys."
He chuckled and glanced up, casting his eyes to the group. "We-I mean they missed you too."
"Aw, you didn't miss me, Roma?~"
He huffed and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms against his chest. "I-I guess I did..."
I laughed lightly, patting a vacant spot on the bed. "Mm. Care to join me? I'd enjoy some company."
His blush turned fifty shades darker (*wink*) than before. "N-No! I couldn't do that..."
"Okay. Then I'll get some sleep." I made a show of widening my eyes. I sat upright quickly. "Can I see your arm?"
He gave me a curious look, but held out his arm anyway. I smirked and grabbed his wrist, pulling him onto the bed. He crashed on the bedsheets, staring at me in surprise. I smiled innocently and sunk back into the covers.
I casually asked, "How are you?"
"Uncomfortable as fuck." He bluntly stated. Romano twitched anxiously. His eyes flitted around the place like he was trying his best to look everywhere but me, even though I was literally lying down right in front of him.
"Hey, Romano. Are you nervous?"
"Hell yeah. Of course I am, I'm extremely nervous. Who wouldn't be if you were in the same bed as a pretty girl with her hoodie lifting up?"
Now it was my turn for my face to redden. "O-Oh, really? I-"
Without any warning whatsoever, he reached over. His warm, slender fingers brushed along my torso as he carefully slid my hoodie down to conceal my exposed side. I remained frozen while he did so, and when he retracted his hand from my side I couldn't help but look how embarrassed he was.
"B-Be more careful, (Name). Some dickheads can be obnoxious predators." Romano gave an awkward, but soft and sweet smile. The back of his hand touched my cheek gently. "I'm glad you're not surrounded by them because that gorgeous body is yours, and yours alone. Not a single asshole deserves to take advantage of that. Take more care of yourself, bella."
.
..
(Reader.exe has stopped working-)
...
....
.....
I fell off the bed.
I hit the ground, letting out a loud, "fRICKLE FRACKLE! Jeez, that hurt..."
"Mio dio, (Name)!" Romano looked down at me, his face a flushed, hot mess of guilt and shame. "Are you okay? God I regret everything I'm so fucking sorry I hit on you IswearthatcameoutofnowhereIdon'tevenknow-"
I laughed. I couldn't help it. I got to my feet and sat back down beside Romano.
"R-Romano, it's fine. I promise." I flashed him a grin. "That was actually one of the most amazing, sweet thing that's ever been said to me. Thank you."
He rubbed the back of his head, purposely not making direct eye contact with me. "U-Um, yeah. You're welcome."
I retired back into the sheets. "Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?"
"A-Alright. If you insist."
"But I didn't insist." I curled my lips into a smirk. "Someone wants to stay with me for a little bit longer."
"I don't."
"You do."
"I'm getting out of this bed."
I giggled and hooked my arm around his. "Noooo. Don't leave me."
The end of his lip lifted up slightly. "Whatever. Get some sleep, bella."
"Goodnight, Romano."
"Buona notte, (Name)."
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|Italy's POV|
"Spain? Why are you looking at my journal?"
"Oh! Sorry, Ita."
To my relief the brunette put the book down. I was glad that he had only gotten through the beginning, which was just regular journal entries. The rest of the book...well, let's just say it went downhill from there.
"I was thinking about something Romano found earlier in your journal. I just couldn't remember what it was. It was about (Name), and it really terrified Roma. The look on his face alone was enough to even frighten myself. I just...can't remember..."
Spain's eyes...changed.
He was a powerful nation in the past after all, so it was no surprise that he had a natural scary side to him and it usually bled into his expression either when he's thinking hard about a certain topic or when he's really angry. It was like America-both their eyes could shift within seconds, from a child-like twinkle to the bone chilling, serious stare of an adult.
Before I could figure out something to say that'll lighten the mood, Spain caught on and the wrinkles in his face melted away into a smile. "Oops...aha, I did it again, didn't I?"
"Maybe~" I playfully responded, chuckling. "But it's okay."
"You were occupied in the kitchen so I thought it wouldn't hurt to take a peek inside, I'm sorry." Spain rubbed the back of his neck. "And I didn't read any of the journal entries, by the way."
"Grazie, Spain." I replied as cheerfully as I could. I took a seat beside him and picked up the journal. "Something about (Name) hmm...Let me take a look, I think I might know what you're talking about." I haven't read the entire book, only the beginning part about the journey of the first user of the journal. However, I do recall seeing some kind handwriting that looked familiar. I believe it was a contract if I remember correctly?
I lifted the corner of the journal, blocking Spain's view with my fingers. I quickly leafed through the middle entries-my entries-when I realized that there was nothing beyond that.
'Where...where had I seen that contract?' I thought in complete puzzlement. 'Unless...'
I went back to the starting point of my entries. I gulped and let a page fall from my fingertip. I spotted a blur of gold and I whipped open the book.
"Found it."
Wait...
"Ita...
Is that a blank page?"
"What?!" I flipped the page over. Nothing. Nothing at all. "But I swear, I thought I saw something...what could've it had been..."
I brushed my palm along the page, gold dust exploding from my fingertips. A sentence had been etched in the otherwise blank piece of paper,
'RESERVED FOR (NAME)'S EYES ONLY'
It was written in fresh gold ink that sparkled in the sunlight. The handwriting looked so familiar...almost too familiar-
I stood up. Ignoring Spain's voice, which only seemed to be muffled words in my head, I abruptly closed the journal and rushed over to find (Name). France pointed me to the beds, where I found her asleep beside Romano. Spain's elbow bumped into mine and the journal slipped out of my arms, onto the mattress. (Name) stirred, and still didn't wake up. Her hand hardly grazed the book's cover. I was tempted to shake her awake but then I noticed how the journal gave off a glow, even if it was just from her scarce touch.
"Wh-What's happening to her??" Spain stepped forward, hand outstretched. "We should get that journal away-"
I grabbed his wrist. I slowly glanced up and shook my head, from the left to the right.
"Don't. She'll be alright."
"Are...you sure?"
"I promise."
I thought I was seeing things. I hoped. And yet within the bright glow that radiated off the journal, I thought I saw him, even for a split second.
I promised Spain that (Name) would be alright. But what about you?
What about your promise, Holy Rome? What about it?
"Italy."
I inhaled sharply, holding my breath, like that was going to keep the tears from spilling.
"G-Germany?"
"The food's ready. Come and eat." He said, turning around. Once he did I swiped my sleeve across my eyes and put on the best, goofy beam I could.
"Okie~!"
A lie. I feel like I don't belong in this world of lies.
But I...I want to be with you, Holy Rome.
Even if it means telling lies.