AC~
*Okay, I took this off my account on fanfiction.net.
*This is really, really sad.
*The chapters will be alternating perspectives between Germany and Italy.
*I totally revamped this chiz. Oh yeah!
This chapter is told from Italy's perspective.
Battle is so terrifying! The gunshots tearing through the air mingling with the desperate, strangled screams make my legs want to run as fast as they can in the other direction. But my mind tells them not to. I have to stay here with Ludwig. He's always been by my side, so I have to do the same for him. Not that his prescence helps much with my fear. I think, shuddering as I hear another explosion echoeing in the distance. Maybe this invasion of Ivan was not such a good idea. He is a very intimidating country, the strongest country yet standing after the nuclear warfare that took place, hellfire raining from the sky. No one knows who fired the first shot. It just happened.
"Luddy~! Can we please call off this attack? It's scary here!" I plead, my entire form quivering with fear as I trailed behind the large German man carefully through the uneven ground and various debris. I just want to go home.
"I told you to refer to me by my country whilst in battle." The tall, firm blonde scolded, gaze sharp before softening, going back to the sad look that I know too well at this point, "And no, Italy. They have killed Japan."
His face contorts in pain before he continues. "Do you want to let them get away with it?" My mind tells me that yes, I just want to leave, leave now and never come back, surrender and forget everything. But my heart tells me no, twisting painfully at the loss of Kiku. "O-okay..." I agree meekly, looking down at my feet. It has been a few months since Kiku had left us for the other side, but the memory still comes up fresh and utterly terrifying in my mind.
We had made a temporary union with Yao shortly after the Allies disbanded, the nuclear warfare and tension tearing the previously tight-knit countries apart. On Jeeps side by side in the desert, we rode two to a vehicle, Kiku and Yao in one, Ludwig and I in the other. We were on a mission to conquer or possible ally Gupta (Egypt), when we faced a betrayal. Yao had suddenly stabbed Kiku, the Japanese man unable to shout for us as he met a quick death by the hands of his brother. He then proceeded to jump from the out-of-control vehicle, the dead man in the seat originally the driver, to our Jeep, knife in hand as he immediately attempted to attack me as well, the blood of our ally dripping slowly from his blade as he gazed at me, eyes conflicting with torment and pain as well as a desperate need to survive, by any means. He lifted the weapon in the air, only for the steely blue-eyed man to the right of me to make a swift kick to his stomach, the man with the long hair flying from the vehicle, never to be seen again as he was buried in the sand. I still don't know if he survived, but all I can think about is my dear friend's cold, dead body drenched in blood in the driver's seat of that old Jeep, and of his brother's hand fighting to dig himself out of the sand, only to fall limp in the drift. Now that I think about it, it's unlikely that Yao survived, most likely trading his life for Kiku's.
My heart tugging at the memory, I peek up at the blonde next to me, his usually neat hair lying in a disarray about his head, his face serious and filled with concentration. He has suffered so much. I can't bear the thought of his sadness entwined with my own, struggling to find an emotion not permanently stained by tragedy about his face. Just how many people have been taken from us? Roderich, Elizaveta, Vash... My mind spun as I thought about it. I was of course devastated by these developments, but Ludwig took it worse. Much worse. He took all the blame onto himself, believing he should have died rather than them, his dear friends and important allies being snatched away from him one by one...
