Hetalian Protectors

Five

Japan's POV: They'd vanished. All of them. The five girls who'd appeared in our lives so suddenly had slipped into the gloom just as quickly, leaving us to blindly follow Russia instead. My heart begging me to stop, to turn, to race backward. To fight off whoever this Major person was and show him that we nations were not to be messed with. That we weren't cowards who simply ran away every time something got hard or scary. But my feet just kept moving forward, no matter how many times I glanced over my shoulder, willing fate to show me red hair, brown eyes.

We piled into a large cavern what felt like hours later, minutes of pounding feet and frantic breathing. Russia looking around with wide eyes before he stormed across the room, facing a wall that went up almost endlessly, fading into the gloom and leaving us squinting trying to see the top. Ukraine followed after him, saying something in his ear, which he brushed away, or otherwise didn't seem to hear as he just stared.

His lips moved, and though I was too far away to hear him I could just read what he'd said. "She'd said it was here..."

Said what was here? It was a dead end.

"What are we waiting for?! We need to turn back!" America shouted above the growing clamour that was getting louder by the second, hushing everyone in moments.

Russia only shook his head. "No. Aridan said-"

"Then she lied. Because there's nowhere for us to go! Just look in front of you!" Gesturing wildly, America shook his head, already turning on his heel. "If you want to stay, you go right on ahead, but I'm not sticking around for those assholes to catch up!"

Murmurs of agreement passed throughout the group, several more breaking off to follow after the blond super-nation, but it also left behind a few who refused to take another step. Looking between one another because they didn't want to believe they'd been lied to all this time.

I was among them. So was England, China, Taiwan, The Nordics, Belarus, Austria... And many more. Nearly splitting us in half. America froze and looked back on us all, mouth slightly agape, "What are you doing?!"

"There has to be a way out. We just have to look-"

"We don't have time to look!" Desperation leaked into his tone, eyes falling on the one person he wanted more than anything to hear what he was saying. "We know nothing about them! They've been leading us on! And they never tell us anything! We can't just stay here and wait for the slaughter to come to us!"

"We're not leaving." Everyone looked to me, surprise obvious on each and every one of their faces. How could it not be when they knew I felt betrayed by the extent of the secrets Scarlett had-? But that didn't mean I didn't believe in them anymore. I'd spent far too much time with her to know; she'd meant every single word she'd said. She just... had things she couldn't share. How could I blame her for that?

"DAMMIT! GERMANY! LET GO! SHE'S HURT!! PLEASE! NOW! LET GO! LET ME GO!" Prussia's screams snapped all our gazes in the direction of where we'd just come from, the albino struggling violently against the hold of his brother who'd taken quite a beating, it seemed, to get him here. Italy and Romano right in front of them, Romano's eyes slightly red while Italy chewed at his nails obsessively. A nervous tick he developed when he got too upset.

"Brother, she's-"

"SHE'S NOT! DON'T SAY THAT!" A choked sob escaped from Prussia's lips, even though he must've tried to smother it. When he spoke again he slumped, all the energy draining from his muscles as he just hung from his brother's arms, accepting. Voice that of a child. "Don't..."

Bile rose in the back of my mouth. Arwen... But if Arwen was hurt then Scarlett-

"I'm sorry, brother. I'm truly sorry." Germany, every so slowly, released his death grip. That was his mistake, Prussia whipping around to nail the blond in the gut before he tried tearing out of the room and back down the twisting halls. Germany grabbed his stomach and dropped to one knee, calling out Prussia's name in a ragged cry as several countries dove to latch onto his arms.