Germany's Grief {APH : HetaOni Fanfiction}

_______________________________SPOILERS FOR HETAONI___________________________________


The room held a solitude of pain and misery.

Unease filled the air, coliding with the metalic aroma of blood. Shadows covered the pale brown grounds of the room along with droplets of red, and in the center, three figures could be seen. From two of them, chaos rose.

"You're lying! You're lying! You're--"

"Stop it, bruder! You know it's the truth! Look with your own eyes, dam**t!" One figure, clothed in a dark blue uniform with a few scratches and blood all over the front, grabbed the other's shoulders--the other wore a dark green uniform. The other's hair, once slicked back on his head, had fallen from it's stiff-like state and was tumbling down as bangs into his eyesight. His icy blue eyes held sorrow and grief, and anger and confusion. And disbelief.

"No, Prussia, you don't understand. You're l--"

"Oh mein Gott, no you listen to me! He's dead, and there's nothing we can do about it!" The one with the dark blue uniform--his pale hair a shade of silver and his crimson eyes full of unshed tears and fury--shook the others shoulders once more. He gritted his teeth and gripped his brother's shoulders furiously. The other just shook his head in doubt.

"He's not dead, Prussia...he's just gone. He's just gone, he left. He'll be back--"

"No he won't, Germany!"

"You're lying! Look, he's not dead! He's smilin--" Before Germany could finish his speech, Prussia grabbed his hand and, with a bit of pain, started to drag his younger brother out the doors.

"No! NO! Italy! ITALY!" The German's screams were ear piercing as tears tumbled down his red cheeks. He reached out for the fallen figure lying in the center of the room on a small pallet of sheets and blankets. Flowers of all kinds covered the blankets and the figure in a ceremonial structure. Blood still stained the blankets and covered the sheets, but other than the small trickle that lined the outside, the wounds of the person had been repaired and the blood stopped from spilling anymore. His skin was pale and his chest was still. Not even the familar curl on the right side of his head moved, like it usually did when the figure--alive--had been so happy and carefree. Now, it didn't move an inch. He was dead.

"C'mon, bruder..." Prussia whispered to his brother as he pushed him out the doors to where a group of others stood, chatting about. Germany glanced up at the others, before looking back, past his elder brother, into the room. He took one last look at his best--and only--friend's body, before his brother shut the door.

Inside the room, the air became cool and a small voice echoed throughout the small space. It traveled around the body of the fallen soldier, the bravest of all the ones standing outside, and coasted along with the cool breeze that wafted over the room.

"Goodbye, friends...

Goodbye Germany. I'll never forget you..."