The Second Doughnut:: A Love That Crushes Like A Mace

[mayflychaser]

[Vash had been fortunate enough to avoid the violence and chaos that had erupted in the streets of Mayfield.  No letter had come to him that he was aware of.  He was ignorant of the tension in the air between the hunters and the hunted.

That is, until the gunshots erupted near the house.

Despite his scramble to find the source, Vash had also become

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[C]

[vertulpen]

[This time, the form he sees through the window is definitely not somebody he knows, so Holland won't open the door just yet, his sharp voice only calling through. ]

Can I help you with something?

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[Vash calls back, undeterred by any cold welcomes.]

There was a woman killed last night in the street. She was murdered! I'm trying to find out if anyone saw or knows anything about it.

Please, if you have anything to say, I would be very grateful for your help!

[vertulpen]

[He opens the door only a little.]

I'm sorry, I've been inside for the past few days. Don't you know what's going on already?

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[Vash scratches his head]

Er, well...apparently some people are getting assassination letters mailed to them? I think she may have gotten caught up in this.

[It takes him only a moment to recall the paper in his hands, quickly pushing it to the door's opening.]

You haven't seen this woman outside the window at all?

[vertulpen]

I'm sorry, I just haven't been paying attention. I've been trying to keep the people here and myself safe.

. . . what's your name?

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[Pauses.]

I understand that. Vash...I live over on Miller Street...used to with this woman. What about you?

[vertulpen]

You can call me Holland. I hope nothing's happened to her, but good luck.

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[Congratulations Holland, you're the first Hetalia character Vash has met! For better or worse.]

Holland? Like the country that used to be on Earth?

[vertulpen]

[Uggh why are you asking him this right now, Vash? He's kind of trying to keep himself out of harm's way. He's not very polite.]

Yeah, like the country. Come over again, we'll talk all about it. Over fucking tea.

[He adds, apologetically.]

Sorry about your friend.

[But then the door is firmly shut and the lock turned. It would have more effect if the windows right next to the door weren't shattered, though. . .]

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[This guy's a strange duck about that, doing things like partying with people who've shot to kill him half a day earlier. Rudeness is promptly not taken to heart.

He does get the hint though, pausing for a moment after the door shuts.]

Er...thank you.

[And Vash heads right off to the next house.]