Hetalian Protectors

Revelations

Japan's POV: I always found it a little strange that the Axis and Allied powers stuck to the same groups, despite World War Two being long over. We were all friends in some way, all connected through trade agreements and the history that haunted all of us, our human history. Yet, stay true to our groups we did, so at the time I was currently with Italy and Germany in the kitchen while America and the others were waiting outside in the dining room.

Italy had wanted to cook for everyone, but Germany had reminded him that dinner wasn't for quite some time, it only being 2:00 in the afternoon. The Italian was insistent, though, and decided to at least start the cooking procedure. He had intended to find Romano, but his brother was nowhere to be found, leaving both Germany and I to help our friend. I had planned to go outside now that the 'rain' was coming to an end, but this clearly took priority. During the year, I only had a little bit of time to spend with my friends, even with the World Meetings and such. It was nice to have this time together. It was very relaxing.

Which is why, when Romano came crashing into the kitchen like the hounds of hell of on his heels, I almost tipped over the pot of soup I was stirring, some of the hot broth spilling onto my shirt. Hearing a grunt from behind me, a loud, panicked sound, I grimaced, trying to wipe the liquid off me with a paper towel. Turning to raise my eyebrows at Germany, I took in his stiff form and the knife clutched in his hand almost completely crooked. It appeared that he may have lost his grip on the knife while he was cutting some meat. The blond didn't seem happy, that vein in his temple flaring again, but I knew it was simply the close call with the knife that had his nerves on edge. He didn't like blades.

Italy, as oblivious as usual, flounced around the buff German and came to a spinning stop in front of his brother. "Romano! There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you! We're making dinner!"

The older brother was breathing hard and I slowly started to take in his almost ragged appearance. The sweat that dripped off his pale face, the clenched fists, the shaking in his shoulders. My irritation fell away into concern. I'd only ever seen the boy like that a few times in my life. His voice only increased my worries, the wobbly inflections showing his... fear? "Downstairs... Lab... Girls..." He pointed behind him.

"Romano-san? What lab?" Skin prickling, I took a step forward, my mind drifting to the letters and diary entries we'd read at the beginning of this mess. The words 'electro-shock' and 'the Drug' echoed in my thoughts. I didn't want to jump to any conclusions, but I couldn't help the images that flashed across my vision.

"Downstairs..." Romano grabbed Italy's hand and started to drag him from the room, pushing past the Allies who had gathered at the door in confusion.

"Dude... Is something going on?" America looked between the two Italy brothers before changing his gaze to Germany and I. Germany seemed stiffer when he replied.

"I'm not sure but apparently Romano wants us to go downstairs. Something about a Laboratory."

"But that's impossible! I had a nice long chat over tea with the Major Bradley and he said this building doesn't have any basement!" England pushed past America and crossed his arms, glancing around him in slight distain. I guess he may have still been mad about being denied entrance into the kitchen.

"But England, shouldn't we at least hear Roma out?" Spain moved into the kitchen, soon followed by France.

"Exactly, mon ami, I agree. It's a good opportunity for us to look around anyway."

England could only sigh as more and more people shouted out their approval and left the British man in the dust. Finally, he nodded his 'permission', knowing that if he didn't everyone would go anyway, and he didn't want to be left alone. So together, we all escaped from the kitchen, making sure all the stoves and such were turned off to avoid another fire incident.