Hello! To start, I would like to clarify that I am not the original writer here. She is a close friend of mine in real life and is unable to post it on this site, so I'm posting it for her. I take no credit for this, and neither she nor I own Hetalia!

Also, because I'll have to forward all reviews to her, I apologize if it takes slightly longer to respond.

Said original author has something to say as well: Hey guys, thanks for reading~! :3 I would like this little note to say that this is probably unlike anything you've ever read! This is also on Wattpad, under the name of: Raneko_chan! Feel free to send review over there too! :3

Diclaimer: The original author doesn't own Hetalia, and I don't own this work.


Everything was chaos. The rain poured down from the sky like heaven's very tears were pouring for whomever it landed. Thunder yelled out in rage at the injustice concealed only by insolence. Lightning tore across the sky, searching for a way to make it right. The wind swept across the earth, carrying turmoil on her back like Atlas held the world. The tempest raged overhead.

Underneath the storm, the trees groaned to hold themselves together. Leaves toppled from the ground and gathered in the mush until the earth was a slimy soup pot. The thunderstorm would probably kill any fool who dared venture out. It was the largest thunderstorm I'd seen in a long time, and I, the fool, was in the middle of it, thanks to two things: The fact I was running for mine and my brother's life, and the fact that my brother was pulling me through this uproar and had completely forgotten an umbrella, a raincoat, or protection of any sort, for a dangerous plan of our survival.

"Romano, stop!" I tried desperately to pull away from my brother's grip. Tears streaked down my face as I was dragged along an unknown path, tripping on twigs and begging my brother to at least slow down. I was going to fall, and fall I did. This was how I learned that the earth was a slimy soup pot. My brother pulled me up roughly, angrily. I love my brother to death, which is why I'm here, but he does have anger issues.

"Don't stop, Italy. We can't afford to stop. We're almost there!" For once, he was being encouraging, probably because of our dire circumstances. If I died, the country I am would die. Not only would my people die, he, a part of me, would die as well. This, I must state, was a life or death mission out of pure Italian desperation. I felt tears warming my face, and for once I was glad I am such a crybaby.

"I'm scared!" I admitted, because I was. I didn't want to do this! I was terrified of what would happen if I fail, but even if I succeeded, I was scared. We kept running. I clung tighter to my brother's hand, seeking warmth, a loving touch. He was silent until we got to the clearing, when he turned to me, and I noticed that he was crying too in a flash of lightning. This shocked me! My brother, my strong brother, he was scared too.

"I'm doing it for the good of our country, -!" He cursed, and I winced. I always wished my brother wouldn't use foul language, but right now, I don't care. I just want to be near him. This might be the last time we see each other. I reached for his hand, and he clamped it close. His other hand reached up to my face and gently wiped away the tears streaming from my eyes. We hugged, sobbing silently.

"He's more likely… not to harm… or kill you… and… and I've even found a place for you to hide…" he mumbled, more to himself than me, and I knew it was true. As far as siblings go, I am the more likeable-at-first-glance type of person. My brother takes some… getting used to, and time was of the essence. We had to act now. He led me to where he'd found a- I kid you not- tomato crate, and fashioned it into a hiding place.

The crate was sitting in a small dip, so it wouldn't be blown away by the wind, and just underneath a tree to where the worst of the rain didn't even touch it. I gave him a small smile. My brother's love of me and tomatoes shone through this wooden crate. He helped me step inside, and I found it was quite large. I could sit down and be decently comfortable, and when he put the top on, it would protect me from the rain. I looked up and studied my brother's muscular appearance, his dark hair and honey eyes, and his olive complexion. I reached for his hand.

"Will I see you again, Romano?" I had to ask, I had to have reassurance. Lightning illuminated his face, and I saw the immense grief hidden in the darkness. He didn't know. This might be our last goodbye. I might never see him again. I squeezed his hand, begging for an answer. We would meet again, right? I wished he wouldn't just stand there so silently. Finally, I saw his lips move, but I could barely hear it. He grabbed the top of the crate and placed it to where I was completely concealed and protected by the rain. The thunder rolled, so I barely caught his words.

"I hope so, Italy." The door was sealed. I listened to him walk away. The wind carried his last words to me, and I treasured them. "I hope so." Because those were the last words I might've heard my brother say. I hit the top to make sure it was on right, and it was. All alone, the wind howling, rain pounding outside, the lightning lighting up the dark reaches of my prison, the thunder dulling out my thoughts, I was all alone.

The rain started to put me to sleep, so I wasn't crying as much. I was just… in limbo. The lightning was stopping. The thunder ceased screaming. The rain slowed to a misty veil. I began to think over what had previously happened, when my brother and I got the news we were going to be attacked by a powerful country. We were both terrified, neither of us barely had any army, and an untrained one, at that! We didn't want to die, we couldn't fight… We decided to surrender and hope this guy wouldn't shoot us dead. Finally I remembered my brother's words as we decided that I was going to be the one announcing our surrender to the other country.

"For the good of the country…?" I repeated in a whisper.

Countries only care about themselves… I thought as tears started to roll down my face.

Inevitably, I was living my life in my memories again. We fight… I saw someone precious to me fighting my master once more. All he ever wanted was to be his own country. He was strong and stubborn; he made me want to be strong, too. We live… and we die… I saw myself begging him to stop fighting. I didn't care if he wasn't a major country! I loved him! My cries did not matter. My master struck him down and killed him. I was bent down next to his body, crying, my tears mixing with the blood covering the ground.

My friend, my love… was selfish too… just… just like my brother! I needed somebody to blame for our predicament, my being stuck here in a box, forced to remember the love of my life's death, and my sorrow. I remembered the years afterwards, growing up, knowing I'd never see him again. I'd never fall in love again. I would spend my life alone. This thought scared me above all else- my life without him. He was the first kind person to me, too! All my life, my country has been so weak. We have fertile lands, and rich history in art and culture, but we're weak. Everyone likes to take advantage and attack my brother and me… He simply asked. He didn't force me, he simply offered.

"Italy… Join the Holy Roman Empire…" His hand was stretched out towards me. Had I taken it, would his fate… and mine… be different now? Would I have died in the swordfight? If he and I had joined together as one nation, would we have defeated my master? Even now… would he have protected me and my brother…? My brother wasn't going to protect me- that was for sure.

"Romano locks me in a tomato crate and asks me to beg for our lives against a country neither of us have seen in battle… or in general…" I mumbled through gritted teeth, and remembered the country's name. Fear gripped, squeezed me with his icy claw. Shivers covered my whole body, although I believe that was from being cold as well as fear. My teeth clenched together, and I felt tears again, as if I was really begging for my life right now against this country. I couldn't help but whisper its name…

Germany.

The night I passed was a long one. My sleep was fitful, and filled with nightmares. I was dying. My brother was dying. I held his bloody hand. I saw my friend, my love die all over again. I joined him and died. Thousands of images of death ran through my nightmares. The final ones were of that country, Germany… He was a huge nation, towering over the trees, and simply stepped on the crate in which I was… or crushed it in the palm of his hand. Death was on my mind that night.

Finally, my nightmares seemed to end. I was a young child again, surrounded by Felicia flowers. The sunlight shone down, the day was mild and warm. A bundle of the tiny white and pink flowers were thrust into my hands by a blushing blonde about my age. I smiled at him, and he smiled back, and I hugged the flowers. He took my hand, said my name. Feliciano. A boy's name.

"I have something important to tell you."

"What is it?" Those blue eyes held something called hope. It was a concept I held on to fiercely. What was life without hope, anyways?

"I'm still alive…" he whispered, as he hugged me.

"Only in my dreams…" I replied…

I hardly noticed when it was morning, I just knew the box seemed lighter than before and my clothes, which, by the way, I was wearing guy's clothes, were dry. My chestnut hair was dirty and clumped with mud from the fall I mentioned early. My hair curl was stiff as if I'd placed a stick on my head. Birds chirped in the distance. That was always a good sign. If nothing else, I hoped the birds were telling me, 'wake up, Italy, you're going to live through today~'. If only birds could talk.

All of a sudden, I heard footsteps through the leaves. They were normal footsteps, not ones of a giant. There was a deep voice with a thick accent I've never heard before. Fear crept over me. He was here! That was him! I tried to make out what he was saying, but it was hard. He did sound like he was in a decent mood, which either meant something really good or absolutely horrible, then he started apologizing to something called a 'shtick'. I wonder if it's some sort of German food.

All I could think of as he got closer was 'don't open the box!', so I decided to tell him not to open the box, simple as that. How did I do that? Well I blurted out the first thing that came to mind, considering I was in a tomato crate…

"I'm the box of tomatoes fairy! Let's be friends and play with each other!" Ah yes, I'm brilliant. Well, unfortunately it didn't work. He knocked on the box with… what I think was his rifle, and then tried to open the box. I cried out more fervently, but I felt a little smug. There was no way he could open this box! Only I could, because it opened from the inside… then the box began to splinter. I began to panic.

He's so strong! I whimpered and tried to crawl to the back of the box, terrified. I was trapped like an animal in the worst possible hiding place. Way to go, Romano! I screamed louder at him to not open the box. Tears started rolling down my face. I was going to die! This guy was going to open the box and shoot me! I tried to get ready to jump up and run for it. I wanted to live! All at once, the box top popped open.

The man was strong, built sturdy as an oak. Muscles bulged from his arms. He was wearing a formal-looking green military suit, with a rifle strung on each side. He had blonde hair, streaking down, perfectly round and shapely on his head. I felt ashamed of my messy chestnut tresses. He had sideburns gently going down his face, and I caught myself when I looked there, on his face. His eyes were blue as forget-me-nots. I was momentarily stunned. He… he looked like my love!

So this is Germany… I thought… and then began promptly begging for my life.

"But the moment I looked into those forget-me-not blue eyes, I knew he wouldn't hurt me."