Disclaimer: Hetalia is (c) Himaruya Hidekaz. This is fanfiction.

Warnings: nothing this chapter

A/N: Apologies for the delay, seeing as there was no particular reason for it. My brain just sort of died. Anyway, everything is moving one slow step at a time (and then it will explode. Probably).

Scene Zero
Six

Despite the fact that the rain could be heard clearly, Kiku pulled the curtain back and peered out the window once more. There was nothing but a sheet of rain, much like five minutes ago, grey predominant while the outline of buildings were reassurance that he was not alone.

It had begun sometime after eight – three hours into whatever mission the rest of his family had been occupied with – and at first he assumed that it would simply fade into a drizzle before midnight.

He had never been particularly good a reading the weather though, so when the wind began to batter against the house, howling like some animal hunting its prey down, he accepted it as it was.

After a restless night, the wind and rain his companion for those hours, he had awoken to nothing but rain and grey. A quick journey down the hallway confirmed that no one had returned during that time, and Kiku could only shake away the panic that attempted to worm into his mind; foolish, really, as they were all adults and quite capable of taking care of themselves.

Once back in his room, Kiku began to dig around for his phone. If they had not returned, he reasoned, they would have attempted to call. Once that failed, they would have left a message. As he pulled the object out from under a pile of cranes (the tinkle of bells accompanying the action), Kiku was glad to realise he was right.

Mission successful. Staying at base for time being; have to finish paperwork Yong Soo never finished. Food in fridge, don't trip down stairs. Vietnam

Ignoring the remaining fifteen messages – most seemed to have been from Yong Soo, probably telling him not to touch the PSP in his absence – Kiku sent a reply to Vietnam, mostly to reassure the family that he had not died. The knot in his stomach eased, even as the wind continued to make attempts to reach him.

He would have never admitted it out loud that he had been worried, not to them (his family, who knew his strengths and weaknesses already), as it really had been nothing more than a foolish thought; one born from paranoia and his own misgivings. They would be home soon, talking loudly about whatever they happened to have in mind, and the thought alone was almost enough to give him a headache.

It was a small thing to be positive about, the relief of not having his ears blasted every other second, and Kiku clung onto it. True, the noise indicated life, reminded him that he was not completely isolated from the world, but occasionally one needed time alone.

And it almost impossible in their household, even if the location had changed. There was some bizarre kind of comfort that came with the thought, even though arguments and raised voices were never pleasant at the time.

Obviously, it was something best left alone, and Kiku took the chance to continue moving freely around the house. Unlike last night though, he made no attempt to push beyond his limitations, resting periodically as soon as the body demanded it.

By midday he had taken refuge in the living room. Half-curled up on the couch, he stared blankly at the television screen, which did absolutely nothing in reply. There was too much static, the sound almost painful to the ears as it drowned out the rain, and he hit mute on the remote; it seemed like too much work to turn the television off, after all.

For a moment, he weighed the chances of a ghost – or some kind of otherworldly being, at least – crawling out of the screen, in an attempt to throttle him to death. Kiku eventually shrugged, filing the thought away for further scrutinising at a later date.

Above him, the light flickered unexpectedly, and without the television to mask the noise, Kiku could tell that the rain had increased along with the wind. It was a particularly aggravating fact, as the minutes ticked by, and yet it was as if the weather had stolen the time away.

The notes he had made the night before – some time between attempting to crush Yong Soo's score without cheats and trying not to fall asleep – lay scattered on the coffee table. The remnants of his breakfast had seemingly moved closer to the edge, on the verge of tipping off, as Kiku reached for the paper closest to him. He observed the diagram he had drawn critically.

"No one even knows if the recent occurrences were triggered by humans…" There was no reason why he had to speak his thoughts aloud, though the combination of rain and wind did little to lighten the mood. The lack of a particular pattern between open gates made it likely, as he retrieved the data they had acquired from their former home.

While they had been prepared for the unpredictable upon arrival to this unknown part of the world, the numbers had failed to add up. Kiku was almost certain that the information from last night's mission would not be enough to clear up the doubt, and suspicion, that now festered in his mind; there was something unnatural about the area they had been sent to deal with.

Gates had a particular form, while certain triggers were required for even a possible opening of one of them. As the triggers needed to be refined in a specific way, it meant that outbreaks were generally uncommon, leaving the public completely unaware.

It was true that gates could open on their own, due to a freak accident or some other factor overlooked, but they were rare. They were undisputable fact, something Kiku and the rest of his family had seen proven time and again back at home, but here…

The number of missions they had been sent to deal with over the past month were unsettling, especially as two of them had involved high-risk Levels (one not even picked up by their technology; the best the world could produce, and constantly advancing). Not only that, but his last mission had left a particularly unpleasant aftertaste with the return of something they had all believed gone and sealed.

Sealed? Kiku frowned, unsure if it was the correct word to use. His memories of that day were disjointed at best, a lack of coherency and clarity making it difficult for him to piece it together. Rather, he had been advised not to dwell so heavily on it, the same advice given to everyone who had been involved; no one had a clear image of what had happened, and apparently it was best to keep it that way.

Except for the fact that it was back (whatever it was), and any attempt made to recall those horrific moments merely caused his head to pound. Frustrated, Kiku dug a small notebook out from the pile of papers, reading what he had already written.

Scanner went haywire; nothing but binary. Eduard believes it to be a signal of some sort.

Sign of gate opening at 21 hours. Clear night, new moon.

Yao says (He could not remember, save for the fact that it had been important; sadly, that alone helped little.)

Binary stops showing up on scanner. Text appears, completely unreadable. Occasional words in English, but they make no sense. Was (Another mind blank. There had been map coordinates, but there had been something else that had stuck out in his mind at the time.)

Summoning? (The word had been crossed out a number of times, but Kiku could only wonder if he should have left it.)

Gate was open; location was

It stopped here, as Kiku snapped the book shut with a muttered curse. He knew, of course, that there was a chance that dredging up such memories would lead to nothing but a dead-end, while the threat of insanity lingered constantly in the corner of his mind.

He needed to discuss the matter with Yong Soo, which would also give him a chance to find out the reasons behind why they had been transferred, as well as the pasts of their current allies. As they had been constantly supervised by one other member of the family – really, it was not like they would tear each other limb-from-limb if they were in the same room for more than five minutes – it had been difficult to communicate about such uncertain matters.

A sharp knock on the door caused Kiku to start, twisting around sharply as a couple of papers slipped to the floor. For a moment, he almost believed he had imagined the sound, but another few knocks against the front door waved the notion away. Unsure of who to expect, Kiku made sure his tanto was in easy reach as he made his way to the door.

The door only needed to be opened a fraction before he allowed his unexpected guest access; "I did not expect to see you here."

"It's this damn weather," Arthur grumbled, pulling the hood of his coat back and almost showering Kiku with water, "You can barely see in front of you; almost ran into some guy on my way here, actually…"

As his voice lowered into incoherent muttering about the weather conditions, Kiku winced as the wind forced the door to close with a slam. As the locks clicked back into place, he turned to the blond and offered a hand, "It must have been difficult. I thought you were at the base?"

Arthur nodded in affirmation, passing his drenched coat over; "Sounded fairly routine, if your cousin is to be believed, though I don't think I'm entirely trusted. Not that it matters, seeing as I'd view anyone in my shoes as suspicious."

"You saved us," Kiku said, careful not to drip water on himself as he found a spare coat hanger, "I would like to believe that means your intentions are in no way harmful."

There was a cough at this, a clearly forced reaction to his words. It might have been due to embarrassment, but Kiku shrugged the thought away, dropping the subject. It was as much for his benefit as it was for Arthur's, as he suddenly felt self-conscious over what he had just said, true as they were.

When they moved to the living room, Arthur took a seat as Kiku cleared the mess on the table, careful not to show anything to his guest as he did so. As he slid the papers out of the way, he glanced back up; "Would you like some tea?"

"If it isn't too much trouble, I'd appreciate it," Arthur's expression reflected concern as he continued, "Though your injuries…"

He trailed off, as if unsure of what else he wished to say, and Kiku could only shake his head; "I've had quite a lot of time to recover, so it's alright."

It was clear that the blond did not believe him entirely, and there was little else Kiku could say to reassure him further. If anything, he had a reason to be worried, as last night flittered back to mind – at how quickly the pain had escalated, even then – but Arthur did not need to know about that.

With the barest hint of a bow, Kiku left the room, allowing a sigh to escape once he was out of sight. Yao's words rang clearly in his mind, the day he had regained consciousness:

"We don't know if that guy's an enemy or not yet. Don't let your guard down."

"I know," he breathed (words like smoke; vanishing into air). It made sense to be wary of Arthur, as his entire existence was impossible. At least, according to the information collected over countless years, as people devoted their lives to studying gates.

Up until now, the only living beings to come from the other side had been hostile; human but not, the formation of nightmares themselves. They had been creatures with no understandable tongue, unable to completely adjust to the environment. Kiku had always reminded himself that their deaths were necessary – a kill or be killed situation – but the thought that people did live on the other side caused his stomach to twist slightly.

And what if they had been human, like himself, once upon a time?

Even though his hands were already tainted…

Kiku shoved the thoughts away once more, as he entered the kitchen and looked for what he needed. The sound of water boiling was drowned out by the wind and rain that battered against the windows, while the occasional crash of thunder broke the monotony.

As he set the tray and cups down, some sixth sense caused Kiku to pause. He turned, as if expecting to see something behind him, but was met with a clear view of the hallway. There was no one else there – and besides that, he was positive he would have heard Arthur if the other chose to approach – and he shook his head with a laugh.

The same moment the lights chose to die.

There was a thud from the living room, followed by a brief string of curses, before Arthur raised his voice; "Honda?"

Grateful for the small fact that it was not night, Kiku left the tray and returned to his guest, "Are you alright?" The question escaped him before he realised how stupid it was to ask that, as Arthur sat on the floor, rubbing his shoulder gingerly.

"I will be," he replied, and it sounded as if he wished to say more. But as he glanced back down, the words trailed off, and Kiku became aware of the scattered sheets of paper that now surrounded the blond.

Moving closer, Kiku dropped to his knees, "Here, let me-"

"Don't touch them."

Though Arthur made no attempt to raise his voice, Kiku froze, hand outstretched. The command confused him somewhat; there did not seem to be anything on the papers, as far as his eyes could make out.

Once he had retrieved all the papers, Arthur spoke, tone apologetic; "It's something I've been working on for a while, and they're a little… flighty, to put it mildly. Also, I don't know what would have happened if they made contact with another existence, so I didn't want to risk it. Sorry."

His words caused more questions to crop up, but Kiku forced them back for the time being; whether or not the blond before him was crazy was beside the point. Other than that, he understood the want to keep certain things private, and they were still very much strangers.

"I'm surprised the electricity didn't cut off before now, to be honest," he commented, tone light, as they both stood; Arthur sat back down on the couch, as Kiku leaned against one of the chairs. There was a noncommittal hum at the observation, a sign that there would be little conversation, and he made to move back towards the kitchen.

As he reached the doorway, Arthur's voice cut through the silence that had built up, "I wonder if there's a point."

"Ex… cuse me?" Kiku grimaced at the hesitation in his words, but did not turn just yet. He reasoned that either he had heard the other's words incorrectly, or Arthur had been talking to himself.

"It was probably nothing, don't mind me." There was something in his tone that warned Kiku of the uncertainty; of something not yet tangible, but still present. All the same, it could have been something that affected Arthur alone, and it would be incredibly rude to pry any further than necessary.

Leaving Arthur to his thoughts, Kiku returned to the kitchen. As expected, the electronic kettle had stopped, and he grimaced at the thought of lukewarm tea. It seemed inconsiderate to offer any guest such a travesty, so he set it one side, hoping that Arthur would not mind.

He dug through the cupboards for a moment, the lack of light making it difficult, until his fingers touched the torch he had been searching for. And here we were wondering if there was something wrong with Thailand.

As he pulled back and closed the cupboard, a sudden crash of thunder startled him. Twisting around, Kiku regretted the action instantly, as he had been using a stool during his search. He hit the floor heavily, the torch skidding away until it hit a table leg. Hissing at the pain that shot through his body – made worse by his injuries – he made no attempt to move, attention falling on the torch instead.

The light that came from it seemed insignificant, and yet they would come to rely on it. It guided them through darkness, but could be snuffed out instantly; a weak existence.

Like us. Kiku almost laughed at the thought. Leaning back, he stared at the ceiling, while the pain became nothing but a dull throb. He would have to return soon, he realised, otherwise Arthur would get worried.

Still, it was comfortable enough where he was. The tiles were cold to the touch, and he realised that his mind had begun to wander. The doctors had been right then; he was still in the initial recovery stage. His waking and forming conscious thought had meant nothing, as the body required more rest.

Something about that bothered Kiku, though he could not pinpoint the exact reasons. It had something to do with the injuries sustained and time already spent in recovery, and yet Yao had reassured him that the doctors had found nothing suspicious during their tests.

Perhaps he was being overly paranoid again, after everything that had happened (question piled upon question until it collapsed on itself). That seemed to be the most logical conclusion and Kiku stood with a groan. The half-complete tea tray would have to do for now.

Even as the thought formed itself, and he moved to where the tray on the counter (retrieving the torch as he did so), Kiku stopped mid-step. Again, some sixth sense caused the hesitation; with a deep breath, he turned around slowly. His eyes searched, though he knew that nothing would appear.

Yet some part of him insisted that it was there, too close for comfort, while the thought of some unseen threat set his nerves on edge. Then, as suddenly as it had occurred, the feeling stopped. The same moment his attention focused on the door leading to the backyard.

The abrupt change did nothing to ease Kiku's nerves, and he set the torch on the counter before approaching the door. He pulled the curtain back, tanto in one hand, but a quick scan revealed nothing. The trees were forced to bend, a prisoner to the weather, while the rain continued relentlessly.

"I should have known," Kiku sighed. If Taiwan had seen his actions, she would have reprimanded him; it was one thing to be careful, but another to believe that even the shadows were about to attack them.

About to let the curtain fall back into place, he glanced downwards. It was an involuntary movement, but what he saw caused Kiku to freeze, mind unable to comprehend the sight.

Even so, his hands moved on their own, unlocking the door and forcing it open. Everything seemed to snap back into place when, a few moments later, the door closed and he heard Arthur approach.

"Honda, is everything alright in he-" He trailed off, footsteps hurried as he bent over, "Did something happen?"

"No, it's fine. I'm fine."

Arthur spoke again, possibly asking more questions, but they seemed to be nothing more than a buzz in Kiku's ears. He apologised, even as the drenched kittens in his arms pawed and mewed, voices lost as the storm raged on.