☆Wish Upon A Star☆

☆~Chapter 28~☆

Alfred tensed up, colour and happiness draining from his face at the loud bang and thud from downstairs.

Kiku's eyes were wide in fear. Was that a shotgun they just heard? There was no way Matthew could come back home like that. Even Kiku knew that.

Soon, Alfred's eyebrows knitted together in a worried frown, eyes carving his fear into the wooden door of the room, which they secretly expected to open with another bang and another thud.

"H-Hide. In the balcony." Alfred's voice was stern, yet every word dripped fear.

Kiku stared at him, at how he slowly pulled himself up onto his feet, ready to go look. A scream died at the back of the smaller one's throat, quickly reaching out to grab Alfred's shirt. "N-No!" He managed to hiss before feeling the boy struggle against his grab and pull the shirt free.

"Kiku." Ocean blue eyes shot a wet glare at him. A terrified, protective glare. But dark chocolate eyes glared a determined, stubborn look back.

"No. D-Don't you dare go out there."

The click of a gun's barrel getting ready to kill, dangerously close to the door, made them flinch. Kiku grabbed Alfred's shirt and yanked him down, out of the bed, hiding him under it and getting ready to hide with him when the door's familiar creaking made him freeze in a crouching position over the edge of the bed, about to jump.

He turned his head around, ignoring Alfred's attempts to get out of the blanket curtains that reached the floor; and his heart almost stopped.

A face he hadn't seen in over four years. The face of a man he had wished to never see again. The grinning face of a man who was loading the gun's barrel, making a horrible metallic noise that made Kiku almost feel the plumb bullets impact into his flesh.

"So, the young Westerner was right," His voice was forcedly smooth as velvet, poisonous as venom. "You are here tonight."

The mad grin that stretched Ivan's face gave a very dangerous edge to his words, sending chills down Kiku's spine as he tried to keep Arthur from coming out of his hiding spot.

"I-I'm sorry," Kiku muttered, not really knowing why. Why was he sorry? Was he sorry about the trouble his mere existence was causing? About the pain and grief that would lead Yao's life if he died there? Or was he sorry about lying to Yao in the first place?

"I didn't expect you to surrender so easily," Ivan chuckled dryly, humorlessly. "But it won't change anything. Or was your family ever sorry about killing mine?"

The more Ivan played with his gun, the more nervous Kiku became.

"The young Westerner sold you, Honda. Thanks to you, even younger Westerner." Using the rifle's muzzle, he pulled the blanket curtains up, unveiling the trembling American boy who was struggling against Kiku's hold on the other side of the blankets.

Thick tears were running down his cheeks in commotion and panic. "Matthew sold us..." He mumbled, staring at Ivan with the most pained gaze he had ever seen. The gaze of a betrayed brother.

Ivan grinned more at Alfred's pathetic situation. He was a man completely out of his mind. A man broken by revenge and idolization of the wrong man. "He never sold you. Even if I should kill you for betraying our pact, you're just a stupid brat. You wouldn't understand your own murder." He pointed the muzzle at Kiku, letting the blankets fall, covering Alfred again.

"But he did sell you. And you're what I'm getting."

☆☆☆☆☆☆

The mare under them started to writhe and pant at the speed Ekaterina was forcing her. She stroked Princess' neck and mumbled soft apologies and pleads in Russian, under Toris' hissing in impatience and anxiety.