Chapter Ten: Ćerima – The Aftermath

This can not be happening. This can not be happening. This can not be happening.

The panic really set in about ten minutes after Maria had disappeared into the cloud of smoke around the flaming complex. I was still trying to find out what had started the fire when a million other thoughts squeezed into my mind: thought of ending up homeless on the streets, of my sisters dying right before my eyes (even though Lara was by my side and Maria, dragged out of the building alongside Prussia and Romano mere minutes after entering, was quickly attended to by paramedics), of the mirror shattering and the nations becoming unable to return home. Although I would not have minded if England stayed…

Making sure no one was looking, I hit myself on the back of the head. What are you thinking? Now is not the time for this! I cautiously slipped away from the crowd, scanning over the faces of the people crowded in the street. There were mostly average-looking men and women, a few children clinging to their parents' legs, nearly none wearing coats to combat the chill of early October. Then there were the commuters, the people pausing to stare at the fire trucks before moving along to wherever they were going. My sisters, one trying to calm a group of people down, the other sitting by the curb with a few others with minor burns. And then the nations. They stuck out horribly in their respective country's military uniform, earning some suspicious glares and one overexcited point from a teenage girl across the street. I hoped it meant nothing.

I noticed Calvin shouting angrily at one of the firefighters, pointing to the complex every once in a while. He was obviously trying to figure out how much he would have to pay to fix the damages, and that sparked a new worry in my head. How much would this cost us? How much longer will be able to stay here? How are we going to get through this? I sat down on the black rail of the fire escape stairwell, lost in my thoughts, hugging the bag of our possessions I was able to save from the inferno.

"Are you alright?"

I did not hear the voice until they spoke a second time, my hands pressed against my face to hide my expression – half stress, half hopelessness. I did not bother looking up. "What do you think?" I snapped, sounding fierce but for the faint crack in my voice. It was clear I did not want to be bothered.

A sudden familiar presence beside me made me forget about my forced anger. I did not have to look up to know whose voice it was, who stood next to me on the fire escape, whose arm draped over my shoulders. "Do you want to talk about it, love?"

I wanted to say no. I wanted to say I was fine, that I could handle things on my own without help from anyone else. But I had been telling myself that for too long. With an inward sigh I lifted my face from my hands, though I did not look up. "Well… I mean, I just…" The words were hard to find. "…It is just too stressful. Too much for one person to handle. Ever since we moved here, it has been nearly impossible for us to make ends meet. Not only money-wise. We have no family, no real friends…just us and the world. None of us really know what we are doing. It is amazing we have gotten this far…" I saw him shift on his feet in the corner of my eye, and cloth was forced into my hands. I looked down.

England's jacket. For the second time in the past three weeks he was offering it to me, trying to be a gentleman, as if I could feel the cold through the numbness of my potential failures funning wild through my mind. I should have taken it, just to show him that I wanted – no, needed – someone to step in and take this burden off our shoulders. Instead, I threw the offering away, heating it land on the concrete somewhere behind me.

"You do not understand," I added, staring grimly at the paramedics on the street. "No one understands. We were barely able to get by before, but now, without the apartment, what are we supposed to do? Where are we supposed to go?"

My words hung ominously in the air, the sounds of the crowds and the fire trucks fading beneath the heavy silence. I had only felt so empty once before, barely at the age of fourteen, when my childhood itself was taken away from me. I could still feel England's presence beside me, but he refused to speak, maybe out of shock, maybe out of pity. I wish I knew which.

"Are you Ćerima?"

England and I both flinched, shocked to find a third person had found their way from the crowd to my hiding place in the alley without being noticed. He seemed so much like America both in his appearance and in his voice, but he was different in a way I could not figure out. The longer I stared, though, the more I noticed: the longer hair, the purple tint to his eyes, the maple leaf pin on his suit jacket, his voice like a constant whisper. I narrowed my eyes. "Who are you?"

The person sighed. It was almost like he was expecting that question. "I'm Canada. It's okay," he added, seeing the apologetic look on my face, "I'm used to it. Anyway, Lara and Maria want to see you, Ćerima. I came out of the mirror just a few minutes ago, and I think something happened to it."

"The mirror?" I jumped to my feet, one part of me wishing I could have more time alone with England but another wanting to get to business. The second beat the first, and so I found myself a moment later sitting beside my sisters, Japan, and America, the other nations gathered around Canada and supposedly bringing him up to speed on recent events.

"Canadia came 'bout ten minutes ago," America was saying, gesturing to the mirror resting on the ground between us. It was covered in hair-thin cracks, and near one edge a small triangle of glass was missing, leaving only the thin back covering behind. "He said he had his bear with him – what's its name, Kumakatchi? Anyway, he said Kumawhatever came through the mirror too, but then a second later it was gone. Vanished without a trace." He picked up a tiny rock from the sidewalk, rolling it in his fingers. "I think this happened." He dropped the rock onto the tiny triangle of broken glass. I expected it to get caught in the space – the rock was too large to squeeze through – so I was frozen with shock when it disappeared in a small flash of purplish light.

Somehow, Maria did not seem surprised. She was laughing at the trick, despite the obvious pain of her burns and the scratchiness of her voice. "Huh. That was cool!"

Lara, on the other hand, was not amused. "So you're trying to tell us," she asked, her hands pressed together, the sleeves of her shirt dangling around her wrists, "that this can send you guys back, too?"

"In theory," Japan muttered. "But we can not be sure of what's on the other side. It could lead to nothing."

They talked a few minutes more about the possibilities of the mirror, but my unnerved mind kept wandering, and after a while I turned my attention to the other group of nations. Canada was speaking, and those surrounding him seemed just as shocked as he was.

"– only ended an hour and a half before I got here! The others were starting to get worried when you all disappeared."

"How is that possible?" Spain chirped, and I shrunk back when he turned his head, not wanting to be seen.

"Probably some inter-dimensional thing." France said it with a pointed look at England, who only scoffed in response.

Russia added, "But what about the girls? They still don't know who they are. …Except for Lara."

"And one of 'em isn't even supposed to exist anymore." A knot formed in my stomach at Prussia's words.

"We'll have to tell them eventually," England concluded, brushing a bit of dirt from his forearm. "They have the right to know… I'll tell Y – Ćerima."

I stumbled backward a bit, disappearing into the crowd as the nations threw around a few suspicious glances. They were hiding something from us. But what? And why?

My head throbbing, I took a seat on the curb. It hurt to think. So instead I stared into space, at the building across the street, at the cloud-veiled sky morphing from blue to orange to black, unaware of anything happening behind me. After a while my eyes closed, still pictures and silent movies flickering behind my eyelids. A faint warmth brushed my cheek; a pair of strong arms lifted me from the ground. I caught a glimpse of emerald-green eyes before exhaustion overtook me.