Note: take everything Bakura says with a pinch of salt. If it were up to LifeInABox66, it would all be true. If it were up to me, it would all be false. So... it's all open to interpretation, I guess?

(My sister is such a wuss.)

LifeInABox66: Screw the YuGiOh canon; what's adorable goes!

Bonus points if you manage to get all the various references to the Abridged Series and other miscellaneous things that we've managed to shove in here.

By the way, the first letter is a reply to Bakura's last letter from the previous chapter, so you might want to reread that one if confused. Damn you, chapter breaks!

To: KingOfThieves-at-DubiouslyAmoral-dotcom
From: PrussiaTheGod-at-Awesome-dotnet
Subject: Heya!

Ah, Kura!

Geez, someone's feeling grumpy today. When are you going to lighten up? I guess it must be the effect of all those 'shadow' games, huh? Hehe.

(See what I did there? With the pun? Huh? You know, the whole 'light' and 'sha – yeah, you get it.)

Names are no fun unless you can play around with them. Threaten me all you like, I still say 'Bakura' sounds like a girl's name. Not that 'Kura' is exactly the epitome of manliness. Hmm. How about 'The Kurinator'? Yeah! Definitely more menacing.

... OK, so it's something to work on, anyway.

And again with the 'brat' shit! I thought you'd put an end to all the name-calling ages back! Well, at least it's a name at all, which is an improvement. Slow progress, right? Yeesh.

Omnipotent? Tch. Like hell. If you were omnipotent, I'd know. Nations are sensitive, good at conveying the mood of the people – you remember all that stuff from ages (a few weeks, I think) back? Yeah, well I'm not feeling any omnipotence here. Not even a little bit. I don't even know what omnipotence feels like, that's how far away you are from it. 'Fraid you're just another three-thousand-year-old egotist, just like the rest of us! Except, of course, I'm not really that old. (China is.) But I more than make up for it in awesomeness! Ergo, I outrank you. Ha.

'Ambiguity is underrated'? The hell does that even mean? You know, Bakky, you're good at stringing together fancy phrases, but they have to actually mean something alongside all that.

The twerp? OK, sometimes your habit of never calling people by their real names makes things kinda difficult. Help me out here! Make up names if you want! Anything to get you to make more sense.

As for history repeating itself... well, people say it does that, sure. I don't know. Sometimes I get the feeling that it's this event or that event all over again, it's just that the names and faces have blurred and rearranged, like alphabet soup and the Sims or something. Other times – mostly when I'm in a better mood, or trashed – everything feels all new and nice, but it's not quite as exciting cause we're all politicians or lawyers or something instead of warriors. Except the suits don't fit quite as comfortably as, you know, the armour did. Instead of relying on your own guts and strength, it's all about the outcome of this global meeting or that diplomatic compromise. No room for just charging in and going with the flow, you know?

Then there are other times when I don't even know and I just want to go get a drink.

But it's like England, you know? You can totally tell he still wants to be at the helm – I think it's the helm? – of a ship, with the wind in his sails and all that jazz. Sometimes I watch him kowtowing to America, and I can tell he hates it. He just wants power again. Then the Scandinavians – you can just see sometimes that they wish to God they were still wearing spiky helmets. Even if they didn't, actually. Wear spiky helmets. The Vikings, I mean. But you know what I'm saying. Then there's France – fucking hell, he's just dying to have another revolution, and he wants it to be as bloody and destructive as possible. Japan's all about video games rather than real violence now, but we all know he just really wants to be a samurai again. Hungary's totally still a nomad at heart – for her, if she had the choice, it's be all running with the wild horses, and hunting, and having catfights with Romania. Long story short, we were all so wild, and we were never tamed. Not really.

But yeah, you're, like, curling your lip in disdain right now, or whatever it is you do when you're totally unimpressed. Fuck off. This is just stuff about me, OK? You're my friend; you have to listen to it.

No, there is no way in hell you are getting Russia's email address. Like I'd let you talk to that bastard.

But yeah, of course I believe in souls. Shit, I'm still fucking Christian, aren't I? I mean, Jesus freaking talks to me! And I kind of do believe you about everything else. Hell knows why. I could say it's cause Egypt's story was similar to yours, but it's not that. It's because you never lie really, do you?

Now, the card games are a different story. As awesome as it sounds, I'm pretty sure the world doesn't revolve around gaming. I'd know if it did!

And seriously, you should be more concerned about the Serpent Island Centipedes. They're an endangered species!

Anyway, you're beginning to sound like West. It's all: "Prussia, you've got to be responsible. Tidy up. Do paperwork. Help with the chores. Learn to cook. Act like me – a fucking automaton!" Yeah well, you know what? No. I'm already pretending to tame; what more do you want from me?

Whoa. Cheery email, huh?

Anyway, you just totally admitted I'm a little awesome, even if I'm only as awesome as a stab wound. But, like I've said before – coming from you, that's practically adoration.

Why not just save yourself the hassle and admit I'm a pretty fucking fantastic guy?

Awesomely, as always,

PRUSSIAAAAA! 8-)

PS You know, one day you'll stop putting those quote marks around the word friend.

To: PrussiaTheGod-at-Awesome-dotnet

From: KingOfThieves-at-DubiouslyAmoral-dotcom

Re: 'Heya'.

I feel the need to open this email with the obligatory statement about you, puns, cosmic horrors and a severe lack of awesome, but I really can't be bothered to think up something cutting. Insert it yourself, if you'd like.

I am trying, with great difficulty, to prevent myself from putting quotes around the word 'awesome'. Come to think of it, communication would be far easier if we were face to face – I would merely inject the necessary derision into my tone. But I suppose meeting up is practically impossible. For one thing, it won't be long before the reckoning, and for another, you're half way across the world. You'll just have to deal with punctuation as an indication of tone, I suppose.

Names are important. As a nation, you should know that. You have a name that, apparently, everyone knows is yours: Prussia. And you have a human name, but I've rarely seen those used, outside of tabloids. It's a sort of duality, and in the same way, ordinary people have many names. All of them are powerful, conveying the feelings of both the named and the namer. Nicknames cheapen that. There, I have rationally explained my intense hatred of everything you call me. Could you shut the hell up about it now?

I will call you 'brat' if I feel like it. I feel like it. Besides, you are one of the few people I know actually deserving of the name…

You can sense omnipotence? Don't make me laugh. The world hung in the balance last Wednesday, over a simple Duel Monsters shadow game, and I doubt you noticed. There are forces at work here more powerful even than nations. If you want proof, ask England (or whatever his name was) if he could remove souls from the Millennium Items. He'll know what I'm talking about, if just by reputation, and he'll tell you that he doesn't have the power. Then again, neither do I. Yet.

Ambiguity is just one of my many talents. Not understanding jokes is one of yours.

Have some names! I'm sure you'll love them. In order of importance, we have: the pharaoh, the purple-haired twerp (which, coincidentally, can also refer to the pharaoh), Egyptian Moron, Coat Tails, Mysterious Egyptian Bastard, Egyptian Moron #2, Medical Miracle, Bland, Blander, Egyptian Moron #3, Coat Tails' Little Brother, Medical Miracle's Little Sister, Harpy Lady, the purple-haired twerp's grandpa and, right at the bottom of the chain, my host. You may call him 'Blandest'.

You appear to be suffering background melancholy. This is the nagging background feeling that something is probably wrong, depressing and likely to cause future anguish. My suggestion? Go murder somebody! Obviously, what's wrong is that you're being made to act tame, like you said. Bloodshed will always make you feel better, in that case. There's a real adrenaline rush in sending somebody into eternal darkness and damnation. That and in carrying knives. I like knives.

I don't have to listen to you, and I'm not your friend. I just happen to be listening anyway, primarily because I have nothing better to do (other than torment my host, but even that has its limits). So don't get any ideas.

Of course I never lie.

I will ignore the centipede comment, lest I accidentally end up responsible for even more homicides than I already am.

Tch. I just said to clean your room. I could care less about automatons. If you were an automaton, you wouldn't be worth the constant emails. As it is, you are a break from the friendship speeches. I'm fairly sure my host doesn't have a life outside of playing children's card games with his friends, during which they all soliloquize. Repeatedly. Perhaps playing Duel Monsters is fun – oddly enough, it is – but to be a spectator is something that I cannot stand. So, as I said, it's nice to have a break from watching teenagers play games made for ten year olds.

You are absolutely fucking fantasticewrgthjhgfgdfdss

Excuse me. I was trying to type that with a straight face, and failed miserably. I laughed so hard that I mashed up the keyboard.

Bakura

P.S. The word 'friend' was never intended to be written without quotation marks. 'Friend' in Ancient Egyptian also meant 'murderous bastard who is likely to stab you in the back'.

To: KingOfThieves-at-DubiouslyAmoral-dotcom
From: PrussiaTheGod-at-Awesome-dotnet
Subject: You said it!

Kura, you know full well that I could never be as cutting as you! You'll have to supply the snark yourself. I'm too awesome to try and imitate. I mean, it works both ways - you know that you can't be me – you're just not awesome enough!

Hey, why don't we meet? Shit, nations can travel pretty much anywhere they want. How do you think I've managed to go to Egypt's house so often? Some of us even swear we can travel faster than humans. Don't know how it works – physics or something weird like that. Nations make scientists cry. But yeah. How about it? I could make it in time to watch your reckoning thing – then I'd get the chance to watch one of those awesome card game thingies! I could cheer you on from the sidelines! And then you'd throw a knife at me! It'd be fun!

It's not going to happen, is it?

Well, maybe afterwards, then. Besides. Emails are good. I like emails.

Names? Tch. They only mean what you want them to mean. Can't be bothered with my human name, really. Why would I want to hide the fact that I'm Prussia and thus freaking awesome for fuck's sake? But yeah. Nicknames are actually better than other names, because they means exactly what you want them to! In light of this, I shall now call you The Kuranator.

Nah, just kidding; Kura or Bakky's fine. It means you're more to me than just plain 'Bakura'. Think about it. Bakura's the name you used when you threatened and confused me. Which, of course, you still routinely do. But yeah. If you get to call me brat, I get to call you whatever the hell I choose!

The world hung in the balance last Wednesday and you didn't warn me? The hell, Kura. There's keeping me in the dark, and then there's keeping me in the darker dark. And the darker dark is not good at all. Not for a Nation. Regular darkness, I can just about deal with, but important stuff? Damn it, I should know things like that!

Am kind of amused you couldn't remember England's name. Dude. It's not difficult. It's the same as the country. You want to express disdain, be my guest, but at least make it believable. So yeah, I asked him about all this crazy card games shit. And damn it, Kura, he looked frightened. Like he knew something really bad was about to happen and he wasn't even sure how it'd end, just that either way it'd be pretty damn awful. Being England, he didn't give details – or even a short summary. He just carried on looking at me until the stiff-upper-lip gene kicked in and I got the most ominous-sounding offer of tea I've ever been given. Oh, and yeah, then he told me sort of briskly: "Removing a soul from a Millennium Item - impossible? Don't be ridiculous, Beilschmidt. Of course I could do that. I simply choose not to do so." Which, of course, means he can't and he's pissed about it.

He and Egypt have begun sitting in corners together at conferences, acting foreboding as hell, speaking quietly and looking all affronted when anyone else tries to talk to them. America looks like a kicked puppy, to use one of your favourite descriptions. (Just why is that one of your favourite descriptions, anyway? Did you kick a puppy when you were only a small kid of three hundred and never quite get over it?) Hungary and Japan have calmed down, too – they're looking really miserable these days. Even West seems anxious. He keeps asking me about you – I never told him much, just that your name's Kura and you're a homicidal sado-masochist; the usual stuff – and looking more concerned and responsible even than usual.

Why does everyone seem to know something I don't? (Besides America, I mean.)

Guess I'll just have to sit this one out. Man, I hate sitting stuff out. I hate sitting.

Anyway.

Yeah, for someone who hates nicknames, you... do it a lot.

Murder someone? Not really sure if I should be filing a restraining order, or punching the air and yelling "Best. Advice. Ever!" You make me laugh, you know that? Also... you're insane, you know that? Yes, yes you do. Look, try to wrap your head around the fact that this is a problem murder can't solve. Don't look so shocked, now. It's institutional, see? It isn't just something you can do away with by being out of control for a few moments, although that helps – when I'm doing crazy stuff with France and Spain, things feel almost normal and natural again – but it's not an issue with me. It's an issue with all of us, and with the world.

Trouble is it's good news for the world that we've all stopped tearing each other and ourselves to pieces (mostly). It's only bad for us, because we kind of miss it all. Maybe for me more than most. Least they've got their land left.

I like knives, too. Also spears. You can't beat the traditional weapons, you know? Sure, guns and tanks and stuff are awesome as hell, but I miss real fighting. These days, even war is done at a distance.

Me? Get ideas? Never! Hehe. I don't think; I know. Why? You guessed it: cause I'm awesome.

Hey... ha! You just said I was worth the constant emails! Which means you like emailing me! Ha! Haha! I told you so! I knew you'd admit it! And hey, if my talent is not getting jokes, then I'll just ignore the last paragraph and focus on the fact that you also admitted I'm absolutely fucking fantastic. Although you spelled fantastic wrong. Christ, don't you have spell check on whatever you're using to type this? Heh.

Well, even if the world as we know it is going to be torn apart and chewed to pieces by you and your little card game buddies, at least you finally managed to admit that I'm awesome.

PRUSSIA

To: PrussiaTheGod-at-Awesome-dotnet

From: KingOfThieves-at-DubiouslyAmoral-dotcom

Subject: I did not.

Yes, I do know full well that you could never be cutting. Mostly because you rarely form coherent sentences. I couldn't be you because I wouldn't stoop to that level.

I think it's best that we don't meet. For one thing, you'll probably be disappointed – reality rarely lives up to expectations. For another, I'd murder you before an hour had passed. It wouldn't be fun. Although I do take objection to the idea that I couldn't, if I so wished, be perfectly polite. How do you know that I would throw a knife at you, as opposed to inviting you to my apartment to play a deadly board game?

Nicknames, I have decided, do not bother me. Yours do.

Why should I tell you when the world's in danger? It happens like clockwork, to be honest. Half the time I'm the one orchestrating it. The other half I'm just a perfectly innocent bystander, there for shits and giggles. I have even been known to prevent impending doom, on occasion, although it likely wouldn't have ended the world. So you see, when it's that commonplace, there's no point in alerting everybody.

Heh. I like the sound of England. It's always fun when people's neuroses are obvious. Destroying them from the inside is so simple that it isn't particularly intriguing, so you have to resort to more subtle mind games, and you can play the whole thing on a completely different level. People who are difficult to understand are fun to toy with at first, but I get bored quickly.

He does sound rather knowledgeable about the dark arts, though. Is he merely an enthusiast, or does he have an actual rudimentary understanding of what he's meddling with? You see, I was rather thrust into the whole situation, and by the time I managed to comprehend more complex magical theory, I was solid metal. Over the years, I've become something of an expert. It would be nice to meet a fellow practitioner.

Stay out of all of this. The reckoning is between me and the pharaoh. Or, as the case tends to be, me and the King of Games – his host, the purple haired twerp. Not that I won't find some way to involve his friends. I like watching him squirm. At any rate, it won't be a card game: you made me realise that. No, something more… personal.

About your own problems: maybe you should get involved in the "saving/ dooming the world' business. Not this particular instance of it, but later on (if there is a later on) (that part is a bit vague). It's rather cathartic.

I'm not too fond of spears, or many traditional weapons. Magic, knives and the occasional bit of hand to hand fighting are all I need. I'm particularly partial to a good kitchen knife, though. They're so easy to come by, in this century. Back in Egypt, most of the handles were cheap pieces of shit, and the blades weren't much better.

I've changed my mind since last time. You are as awesome as a heroic soliloquy (which is to say, moving into minus degrees of awesome).

Bakura

To: KingOfThieves-at-DubiouslyAmoral-dotcom
From: PrussiaTheGod-at-Awesome-dotnet
Subject: News from the frontier of the apocalypse

Kura kid, Bakky my buddy, I know everything's about to come crashing around our ears and turn into one giant mindfuck of destruction; I'm not Veneziano.

And I'm not some useless pen pal either – damnit, I've been and done more wars than you've stolen souls and knifed people. Basically what I'm saying is you need to start being upfront with me. Yeah, yeah, you'd probably choke at the keyboard if you even tried, I get it, but the shit's about to hit the fan, majorly, and I need to know what's going on. 'Reckoning' is too vague – I want fucking facts.

Truth is, we're all sehr confused and scared over here. Maybe the world's always in danger at exactly half past three every Wednesday, but this time's different. I can feel it, and so can a lot of us. Today's world conference was like some kind of freaky social experiment – half of us had a clue of what was going on and were desperately trying to conceal it from the other half who the picture of happy dysfunction, as per usual. It's like the Cold War all over again, only instead of being there, right in the middle of the dictatorial crap, I'm on the sidelines, wandering around like everything's still unicorns and puppies and secretly yelling my head off in frustration because I don't know if the next moment there'll be some apocalyptic global disaster at our doorsteps.

In other news? You're still a creepy fucking bastard. How is it that whatever we end up talking about, it all comes down to manipulation?

And how come you'd like to meet England, but you refuse to hang out with me? Really, Kura, I'm hurt. But if you must know – and I know you'll bite my head off if I don't answer your questions; no hypocrisy there at all, nuh-uh – England's been into all that sorcerer shit since before I was a proper Nation. I'm betting he's better than you, though I guess he had the advantage of not being locked in a lump of gold for the best part of his life. England can be pretty fucking scarysometimes. Sure, you can laugh, but you remember a little thing called the Spanish Armada? How it was delayed in invading him because of the bad weather? Yeah, that... wasn't chance.

Guess it's a good thing we've got him, what with the impending apocalypse- type-stuff. Hungary too; I'd pit her against twelve apocalypses all at once, any day of the week. Even Wednesday. Especially Wednesday. Though if you need help at the end of the world, West is your man. I wouldn't normally say this, but he's been brilliant. Everyone else is looking like they're a few panicky seconds away from a nervous breakdown, complete with putting underwear on their head and saying 'wibble', but West doesn't even seem scared. He's been reassuring everyone who knows, and making up halfway-decent excuses to satisfy the ones who don't. He can even make Veneziano shut up and calm down. Though that's a Veneziano-specific talent, come to think of it – it sure doesn't seem to work on Romano, at any rate. More's the pity –kid won't shut up.

West still keeps telling me to do the laundry, though. I say what use is fucking domestics when we're heading towards freaking Armageddon?

But I'll say it again: I am not staying out of this. This isn't just some cute little revenge tragedy between you and the twerpy Pharaoh – it's my world too! And damn it, I sort of like it the way it is! You know – non-destroyed!

Which is why I'm not getting into the whole saving/dooming the world 'business' (what is it; the family trade or something?). Although I'd make a freaking fantastic superhero.

Look, remember how you promised me you'd never disappear again? Well, I get the feeling it's getting close to the point where you're about to break it. Bastard. You don't break pinky swears, damn it! So yeah. Just... tell me when it's reckoning-time, yeah? Just in case. Yes, I know you're going to kick an unholy amount of ass and conquer a stupid amount of the world, which I'm actually almost looking forward to - but what if, OK? Just what if? After all, I wouldn't want to pine at you for days until you can be bothered to reply again. Not that I ever pined. I'm just using your phrase, because otherwise you'll pretend you don't know what I'm talking about and use it as an excuse to break off contact for days. Which is just not on. Kay?

Yay, you said I was awesome again! See, sooner or later, everyone just admits it. I know. It hurts to realise that you'll never be quite as amazingly brilliant as I am. But you'll get over it. Everyone does! And hey, I understand; I'd hang out with you anyway. Even if you refuse to actually hang out.

Korea may have invented everything else including you, me and carpet cleaner, but awesomeness originated in

PRUSSIA! :)

To: PrussiaTheGod-at-Awesome-dotnet

From: KingOfThieves-at-DubiouslyAmoral-dotcom

Subject: Until next time

Prussia. Listen. No, not like you're doing now. Wipe that shit eating grin off your face (I am aware of the fact that I used your name, so there's no need to look so happy about it) (how the hell are you managing to be happy after just ranting about the world's impending doom, anyway?) and listen to me.

I'm not going to fucking disappear.

I've been preparing for this for way too long for it to come to that.

Fine. Whatever. Think of it as a revenge tragedy, then. Here's me, the plain dealing villain, with my glaring fatal flaw of hubris or revenge or bitterness or whatever the fuck you're implying. What is this to you, a joke? I talk about manipulation because that's apparently what fate's been doing to us all since the start, if I'm to believe the predictions of some decaying rock and an ancient necklace. And if I am – to believe them, that is – then there isn't a whole lot of hope for me, in the end.

After all, the hero always overcomes the villain, doesn't he?

Well, not this time. I'm going to fight everything that they throw at me. I could care less if a hurricane of friendship speeches are directed my way, and the pharaoh's uncanny ability to topdeck whenever he needs to won't be any help when we aren't playing cards.

The world can go to hell. I could care less. That bastard's going down.

I made my choice long before I ever met you. A very, very long time ago, when there was something far more powerful than me, and I wanted that power. And the problem with deals with the devil, is that the devil is generally even more powerful than a naïve Egyptian thief wants to believe. And so much better at manipulation. I suppose you never did like my rather ambiguous statements about the past, but I can't see a better way to put it.

It's all so ironic that I could cry. Or laugh. I just want to laugh and laugh until the entire world stands there terrified - sure that I'm insane - and then I'll say "Your move."

I can just see your face. You're utterly livid, aren't you? Well, I don't have the energy to think of some witty remark to rile you up further. In fact, I don't even want to. I'm tired of all of this. It should have ended three thousand years ago, and it never did.

I never thought I would survive long enough for that to happen.

But now I have to play my role right until the end, consequences be damned. If it all goes to hell, so be it. I'll know that I tried, and I'll know that my justice has been exacted.

Maybe if it had lasted a little longer, we could have met up. If you think it's that important, maybe we could have been friends.

But I can guarantee that I won't disappear – remember what you said? I never lie.

Bakura

To: KingOfThieves-at-DubiouslyAmoral-dotcom
From: PrussiaTheGod-at-Awesome-dotnet
Subject: I'll see you then

Cut the crap, Kura, you know we're friends now! Right? Kura?

Tch, of course we're friends. You just used my name. I mean, wow. How much more friendly can you get?

You know what? You remind me of me. Now there's no need to get too excited – I only mean a little. You're not quite as awesome. But nearly. Anyway, you remind me of me because you could care less about all this global ramifications shit – you never were into all that political blah– or even all that crap about fate, because what is fate? When you get down to it, it's just shit that happens; you're just in it for the fight, and the victory, and the pummelling the other guy's face in. Or, you know, the gaming equivalent. And God damn it, you're going to win. Right?

... Kura?

I have to tell you, things aren't looking too pretty down here, and that's not just because Russia's gracing us with his presence. We're in the middle of an emergency global meeting, and Egypt's explaining all the card game stuff to everyone – cue looks of grim horror from some of us, and grim confusion with everyone else. Man, do I know how that one feels. So I guess I'd finally be up to date with what's going on, but to tell you the truth I'm not actually listening much. I mean, I get the gist of it. Talking to you is more important.

You can tell the world to go to hell, but at least one part of the world won't do that, because he knows that's just what you're like, and you don't really mean it, and in the end, he's totally on your side.

The thing about people like us, you see, is we just keep on surviving. Just look at me. Most people can't even think of a reason why I still exist, yet whaddaya know, here I am, the living, breathing, emailing specimen. We're fighters. And we're goddamn crazy to boot. Which is why people like you and me always end up lasting longer than we ever expected. Hell, there were times a few decades ago – mostly to do with all the nuclear freaking warheads certain people kept waving in each others' faces – when I really thought: Shit, this is it. But it never was. And the wall came down, and everything just carried on.

Basically, people like you and me? Are pretty damn hard to kill.

Look, when all this is over... well, I know you said you didn't want to meet up. But I'm going to choose not to believe you. Come on, Kura! We can go for a drink or something. I'll find you. I'll even pay. Which makes you a pretty huge fucking cheapskate, by the way, cause you'll be King of the World or something by then. But yeah.

Your choice. Your move.

Go knock 'em dead. Uh. Literally, I guess.

Ah, hell. You always were a pretty fucking awesome guy. Just figured you should know that. Which you already do, because you're an arrogant bastard. That's OK, though.

I'll see you soon.

Prussia

To: PrussiaTheGod-at-Awesome-dotnet

From: KingOfThieves-at-DubiouslyAmoral-dotcom

Subject: Sorry

Dear Prussia,

I am very sorry to take up your time by emailing you like this, but I was not sure what else to do. I am sure Bakura will email you soon, but he has been a little busy.

I'm sorry. That was a lie. I'm fed up with lies, and I think that he would like me to tell you the truth.

He isn't here. Not anymore. And I don't think he will be, ever again. And I really really really do not think I am allowed to tell you why - but then, you're special, maybe? You have to be important, or he wouldn't have emailed you at all.

Well, he's gone now, and I can't help you. Or him. Sorry - that was very blunt of me, but I cannot think of a better way to phrase it. If you just delete this email address from your contacts, and any saved messages, nobody will know you were in contact. I would advise you to lie low, and whatever he said, do not believe it. He was good at manipulating people, and it is best to just try to move on.

I do not wish to cause offence. I merely want to help you in any way possible, and currently, the only way that I can see is for you to forget. Whatever you've done in his name, it doesn't matter. Please go back to living.

Forgive me for my brevity.

Bakura Ryou

To: KingOfThieves-at-DubiouslyAmoral-dotcom
From: PrussiaTheGod-at-Awesome-dotnet
Subject:

Ryou,

You're... you're the host, right? Uh. Sorry. Didn't mean to be rude.

The fuck am I saying? Sorry and all, but I think I'm going to be really, really, rude here.

How the hell can he be gone? He told me he wasn't going to fucking disappear. He promised! What. Happened.

Look, thanks for trying to be straight with me. I appreciate that. But really, you're being just as vague and ambiguous as he was. Is.

Do you even know what went on? Have you any clue what happ

He lost, didn't he.

Villain always loses.

Is he dead? Can he be dead? I guess so. I guess, after all that, he was only human. I think. And that's what humans do – they fucking die on you. Changing names; changing faces. Fuck.

... Forget about him? What the hell are you talking about. I am freaking Prussia and I do not forget my friends. I don't get rid of addresses, I don't delete emails and I certainly don't hide.

Did he get my last message, do you think?

Anyway, you don't have to explain anything else if you don't want to. I think I'll be hearing about it a lot at the next meeting. They're already going crazy with relief – that's when I knew something had gone wrong. So really I'm not all that surprised. Or I shouldn't be.

Or something. I don't know.

Prussia.

P.S. In case you're worried, the world's not in crisis anymore. Officially. I have it on good authority from the International Conference of Personified Nations. Or the International Conference of Argumentative Fucktards; not sure what we're calling ourselves anymore these days. But yeah. You... you go back to living too, kay?

P.P.S. Thanks for, you know. Getting in touch. And stuff. Thank you.

Fin.