Hetachains (Rewritten Hetalia Reader Insert)

Chapter Six *

Chapter Six

The Actual Plot Surfaces

The curtains open on a new scene.

A room different from the apartment we've grown accustomed to with its well loved furniture and pictures of happy friends on various trips. This room was not lived in. Sure, it had a couch and a fine table for eating meals but it lacked anything that would tie it to the owner.

The couch was as bland as a couch could be, not a spec of animal hair or an imprint of use on its cushions. Simply a couch that had been bought and set up to appear as a couch.

The table was pristine, wood gleaming even in the low light provided by a lamp in the center of the room. Too clean to be an actual table that people ate at. No one enjoyed a meal at this table nor did they gather around to play board games when the power went out.

If a neighbor were to walk into the room, they would wonder if anyone actually lived in the apartment at all. But someone did live in the apartment. Two people in fact. Two being that could barely be attached to the human race save for their appearance.

One stood in the center of the room, sitting upon the carpet and hunched over a book. Their eyes trailed across the pages, furiously writing notes along the margins with a sharp pointed pen. Red ink contrasted the pure pages, the notes written anything but pure like the hand which held the pen. Letters scratched in a messy cursive as arrows were drawn to specific texts and passages were circled like an author editing their first draft. Their concentration was unwavering, nothing could break the bond between their eyes and the paper.

A knock sounded at the door. The person did not move. Silence.

A second set of knocks, this time rapping out an impatient tune. And again, the person didn't acknowledge the knocks.

A third set of knocks didn't follow, leaving the person to their quite notes once again. The flip of a page rustled in the air as they delved deeper into the book. Their hand reached out to the lamp next to them, adjusting the head to give better light. Something seemed off about this passage, the words were arranged in an unnatural way. If they could just get a closer look-

"Autumn! If you don't answer this door right now, you'll find something interesting in you pillow tonight!" The person jumped, hand with the pen streaking across the page, sending an angry red stroke through a depiction of a ghost summoning circle.

The voice continued to call through the door, "Autumn~ Get your ass over here!" they called, an eery twinkle to their tone. The reader, otherwise known as Autumn, cringed at the red line created by his jump. That'd be something he'd have to fix later. A rushed set of knocks sounded again, the person at the door no longer holding their impatience. With a sigh, Autumn stood, dragging his feet as he walked to the door and opened it.

"How many times have I told you not to disturb me while I was reading? And don't call me Autumn, what if someone heard you-" The person at the door, a female dressed in a pink long-sleeve shirt and back skirt, held up and hand as she rushed past him and examined the room.

"If someone heard me, I'd say it was a nickname. You're Autumn, I'm Spring, and our other friend is Winter. Easy as that." Spring said, hands feelings along the walls until she found what she was looking for.

With a flourish, she hit a switch and light flooded the room from overhead lights. Autumn winced, eyes not ready to see such bright lights. Once his vision returned, he could see Autumn standing across the room with hands on her hips.

"Well," She prompted with a hand out.

"What?"

"Greet me, you dummy!"