YAY FOR TRAGEDY! ewe

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or the plot of Titanic.

Warnings: deleted scenes, drama, yaoi, and character deaths later on.

Chapter One

The Ghost Ship and Its Ocean of Memories

Two and a half miles underneath the surface of the Northern Atlantic ocean, two submarines came into view of a shadow at the bottom of the ocean. On each sub were at least five crew members, and the one in the lead held the man in charge of the expedition.

He was in his twenties, with spiky blonde hair and deep blue eyes. He was crouched by the front most window, with a video camera in one hand. Standing behind him was his partner-in-crime, a shorter man about the same age, also with blonde hair, but his was combed neatly over one of his navy eyes. He had a cross pin holding back the rest of his hair, and there was a small curl in the back that didn't seem to be attached to his head at all. While the boss was wearing a simple long-sleeved red t-shirt and jeans, his partner was wearing clothes similar to a sailor's uniform.

"10 meters, you should see it." Called another man who looked a bit younger than the first two. He was around nineteen or twenty, with silver hair and light blue eyes. He was wearing a white dress shirt, brown slacks, and a brown jacket.

"There she is!" The boss, a man named Mathias Kohler, called, turning on the video camera and pointing it at the window to try to catch a glimpse of the wreckage of the ship. Kohler was the man leading the excavation of what was once believed to be the most luxurious, unsinkable ship to ever sail, the Titanic.

"It's March 21st, Dive Six, and we're approaching the hull of the Titanic. Seeing her coming out of the darkness like a ghost ship," Mathias said to the camera, "still gets me every time. She's been lying here, two and a half miles from the surface of the North Atlantic, for eighty four years, after her long fall…" He took a dramatic pause, slowly pointing the camera at his own "serious" face, "…from the world above…"

His partner, Nordyr "Norge" Claussen, scoffed, "You're so full of shit, Dane."

Instead of responding, the Danish man laughed obnoxiously at his Norwegian partner and went back to narrating, "The pressure outside is three and a half tons per square inch. These windows are nine inches thick, and if they go, it's sayonara in two microseconds." And with that, he shut the camera off. "Alright, enough of that shit. Ice!" He called to the silver-haired boy, "Bring her down the Grand Stairwell like yesterday."

Kristjan "Ice" Dagr, the silver-haired nineteen-year old at the wheel, nodded, and launched the mini sub right over the dome at the Grand Stairwell at A Deck. Norge sat down at the controls, pulling a camera viewer over his eyes and taking the controls almost like a video gamer at an arcade. As the mini-sub sank down a level, it passed bottom-feeder fish and eels, piles of sand and silt, and remnants of the ship's precious cargo.

"Mir 2," Norge said through the radio to the other sub, "We're heading down the Grand Staircase to B Deck, do you copy?"

"Roger, Mir 1, we're approaching the piano at the D deck lounge." Came the reply.

On the mini-sub's way down, it passed by many things left behind in the sinking. A doll that probably belonged to a little girl, half buried in the sand. A pair of boots in one of the rooms, left for lack of interest. A pair of reading glasses on the floor, rusted around the rims due to long-term water exposure.

Finally, they came to a joint bedroom and sitting room.

"This is it! This is the room!" Mathias exclaimed, filming the screen casting live video feed from the mini-sub.

"Yeah, I know, Dane." Norge deadpanned, focusing on the sub he was controlling.

"Careful! Watch the door!"

"I know! Chill out, Mathias, I've got this."

"There; there, there, there!"

"I know, Kohler! Shut up and let me drive!"

Ice sighed as his boss and his brother bickered like an old married couple. He kept the sub in autopilot, hovering over the opening in the ceiling and leaning on his elbow, bored.

"That's Bonnefoy's bed," Mathias pointed to a broken bed frame onscreen, "That's where the son-of-a-bitch slept!"

Norge nodded silently, taking the mini-sub past the bed and into the walk-in closet.

"Wait, wait!" The Dane shouted, lightly smacking the Norwegian on the arm, "Go back, I think I saw something."

Norge backtracked, turning to hover over a fallen door a few feet from the closet. It was a cracked, old, and most likely unstable wooden door, leaning against the wall at a forty-five degree angle. However, it looked like something was definitely behind it. Norge took the controls for the "arms and hands" of the mini-sub, and carefully took hold of the decrepit door.

"There you go, flip it! Flip it, flip it!"

"I got it, Dane!"

"Careful; don't drop it!"

"Mathias, would you SHUT UP?!" Norge said, at the same time ripping the door out of its resting place and flipping it out of the way, dropping it without completely shattering it.

"…Well, that's one way to flip an old door in a sunken luxury Royal Mail Ship while looking for the most costly piece of shit in the world…" Ice commented to himself, leaning on one elbow, his hand cradling his face.

Mathias scooted closer to the screen, and Norge squinted through the viewer, both trying to see what was behind the wall of dust turned up by the violence of the small Norwegian. Suddenly interested, Ice moved a little closer as well. Norge was the first one to see the outline of something through the murk.

"…are you two seeing this…?" He asked in amazement.

Ice's eyes grew wide and he rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't just seeing things. Mathias cracked an astonished smile as the outline of a rusty safe came into view.

"It's payday, boys."

On the surface of the water above them was a Russian research ship named the Keldysh. The entire crew was gathered on deck, and every single one of them cheered as the completely rusted safe was brought up onto the deck. Everyone gathered around it, and Mathias sprayed his partners with a fresh bottle of Champaign.

"Who told you?" He shouted to Norge, "Who said it was in the room?! Say it, Norge!"

Norge sighed, smiling, "You did, Mathias…" The Dane kissed the Norwegian's cheek, earning him a slap, and he moved to help crack open the safe. A crewmember handed him a crowbar, and, after sawing off the hinges to make it easier, the safe was pulled open. A waterfall of mud and filthy water later, Mathias stuck a hand into each compartment, pulling out wads of old, soggy money and scraping out mud. The last thing he pulled from the safe was a warped old notebook, and then… nothing.

His eyebrows furrowed, and Ice, who was holding the video camera from earlier, asked, "…no diamond?"

Mathias stood there, not wanting to believe he was right. He checked the compartments again, then hissed, "Shit." He sat back on his feet, looking at the safe in disbelief.

"You know," Ice said bluntly, "The same thing happened to Geraldo, and his career never recovered…"

Mathias looked up at the camera and shoved it to the side, "Turn the camera off, Kristjan."

Inside the ship, there was a lab where what was found was being cleaned off and examined. A satellite call came, and Ice answered it before handing it to Mathias, saying, "Kohler, partners in New York want to know how it's going."

Mathias sighed and took the phone, muttering, "Not these guys again…" He put the phone up to his ear and answered, "Hi, Tino, Berwald. Listen, it wasn't in the safe. But, hey, there are still plenty of places it could be… Hell, yes! The purser's office, the mother's room, the private promenade… I just need more ti—" He stopped mid-sentence as he caught sight of something that Norge was spraying the mud off of. He gaped at the sheet of paper that was slowly being revealed.

It was a drawing of a man, laying naked on a couch. He had short, light-colored hair and a soft smile on his face. He had a small and slim, but still muscular frame and light eyes. Above his eyes were a pair of thick eyebrows. Not thick enough to be unnatural, but thick enough to be noticeable. His legs were positioned just so that nothing below his waist was revealed, but it was clear that the only thing he was wearing was a necklace…

With an unmistakable heart-shaped jewel in the middle.

"Um… Hold on, guys, I think we have something here…" Kohler said into the phone. "…I'll call you back!" He quickly hung up and snapped his fingers at Ice, "Gimme the… the picture of the diamond! Quick!" The silver-haired boy handed him the photograph, and he held it up to the drawing to compare. After a few seconds of looking back between photo and drawing, he muttered,

"…I'll be God-damned…"

In a small house in a suburb just outside of Boston, Massachusetts, an old man sat at a window. He was withered, but wasn't purely skin and bone. His neon green eyes still held a certain fire, and his blonde hair may have faded to white a long time ago, but it still held some life. He refused to age any way but gracefully, and the one thing he would never let go of was his wildfire of an attitude.

In the kitchen of the small, two-story house, was a man in his early twenties. He was pale, with dark brown hair cropped short in the back and kept longer around his face. His amber eyes were almond-shaped, and squinted slightly, due to his southeast Asian heritage. He wore a baggy red oriental-style shirt and a pair of black jeans that were being pawed at by a fat ginger-and-white Scottish Fold.

"Hold on, Iggycat, I'll feed you in a minute." The man said to the cat, setting the table for dinner.

All the while, the TV was playing the news, the lady saying, "…excavation of the ship they said was unsinkable, the Titanic—"

The old man, named Arthur Wang, stiffened and got up from his chair slowly, grabbing his cane, "Lee? Is that the news?"

"Yeah, Gramps." Lee responded from where he was feeding the impatient cat.

"Turn it up, love…" The elderly Brit asked, walking up to the TV as his grandson turned up the volume.

"-we have live satellite feed from the ship Keldysh, where the mastermind behind this amazing discovery, Mathias Kohler is ready to answer our questions."

Another frame appeared on the screen next to the anchor woman, displaying a man with bright blue eyes and wild blonde hair being blown by the wind.

"Mr. Kohler, thank you for being with us. Now, your expedition is in the middle of a storm of controversy. Many are even calling you a grave robber."

"Well, no one called the excavation of the artifacts from King Tut's tomb 'grave robbery'," Kohler said, "I have a team of museum-trained experts out here making sure all the artifacts recovered are perfectly preserved and catalogued. Everybody knows at least one thing about the Titanic; the amount of lives given, the nobility of the band playing at the end, but what I'm interested in are the untold stories." The screen Kohler was on flashed to a drawing of a naked woman wearing a heart-shaped diamond necklace, "This drawing was found in one of the first class rooms; a piece of paper that's been under water for eighty-four years. Should this have remained underwater for eternity…?"

Arthur squinted at the drawing, trying to see it clearer, then, he recognized it, and his eyes flew as wide open as they would go.

"I'll be God-damned…" He muttered.

As Kohler was about to launch the submarines for a fourth time to gather more artifacts from the wreckage, Ice came up to him.

"Hey, Mathias!" The blonde turned around and Ice continued, "There's a satellite call for you."

"Ice, do you not see the submersibles going in the water?" Kohler asked, still agitated from earlier, "I'm busy!"

"Believe me, Broski, you want to take this call." Ice said, gesturing toward the phone. Kohler groaned and followed him.

"This had better be good…" He growled.

As Ice was leading him to the phone, he said, "You have to speak up; he's kind of old."

"Great," Kohler said sarcastically, bringing the phone to his ear, "This is Mathias Kohler, how may I help you Mr…" He looked at Ice.

"Wang. Arthur Wang."

"—Mr. Wang?"

Back at the house in Boston, Arthur spoke into the landline, smiling politely to himself. "Yes, I was just wondering if you'd found the Heart of the Ocean yet, Mr. Kohler?"

On the Keldysh, Mathias looked at Ice, eyes wide. Ice nodded, a smirk on his face and muttered, "Told ya you wanted to take the call."

A surprised smile on his face, Mathias turned back to the phone and said, "Alright, you have my attention, Arthur. Can you tell us who the man in the picture is?"

"Oh, yes," Arthur said, smirking, "The man in the picture is me."

Helicopter blades flapped in circles as the sleek black chopper brought itself into range of the Keldysh. Mathias and Nordyr were headed up to the helipad from the lab, where they had been finishing up examinations on the other things they found.

"He's a goddamn lair! Some nutcase seeking money or publicity; God only knows why! Like that Russian babe, Anesthesia!" Norge shouted over the noise

Ice, who had been standing at the rail, came rushing back to them, shouting over the noise, "They're inbound!" He pointed at the chopper, which continued to get closer to the ship.

As the three continued up to the helipad, Norge continued, "Arthur Ignatius Kirkland died on the Titanic when he was seventeen. Right? If he had lived, he'd be over a hundred by now!"

"Hundred and one next month." Mathias shouted back. Norge faltered for a second, then he came right back.

"Okay," He said, "So he's a very old goddamn liar! Listen, I've already done the background on this guy all the way back to the twenties; when he was working as an actor. AN ACTOR! There's your first clue, Sherlock! His name was Arthur Jones back then. Then he marries some guy—yes, I said guy—named Wang, they move to Boston, and the two of them adopt a couple of kids. Now Wang's dead, and from what I hear, so is most of his Opium-addict family!"

Mathias turned his head to look at his partner and shouted, "Yes, but everyone who knows about the diamond is either dead or on this boat, but he knows!"

They made it to the helipad, where the chopper had just landed and was in the process of unloading its cargo. The first to step out was an Asian man with dark brown hair. Mathias went up to her and shook her hand.

"Hello, I'm Mathias Kohler, welcome to the Keldysh." He said. The man nodded.

"Thank you; I'm Lee." He introduced himself, then helped bring his grandfather, who was in a wheelchair, down to the deck. Mathias then went up to Arthur and shook his hand as well.

"Mr. Wang, welcome to the Keldysh. I'm Mathias Kohler." Arthur smiled politely and nodded. Lee went behind the wheelchair before any of the crewmen could get there, and pushed his grandfather out of the sun.

Once they were all inside, Kohler showed them to their rooms. Soon, their luggage was hauled down, and Arthur set to work setting up a bunch of pictures on his bedside table.

There were at least twenty frames, all filled with one or more pictures from his past. The biggest ones were the newest, and the smallest ones were still in black and white. There were adventures from all decades, and they were all adventures he'd gone on. He was riding a horse in the surf of California's Santa Monica Beach, getting ready to fly a plane for the first time, holding a college diploma, and getting stone-cold drunk on his 21st birthday. There were birthdays, parties, and weddings he'd attended, photos from small movies he'd been in, and family, high school, and college reunions. The last one he set up was a picture of him standing at the bow of a sailboat, laughing with an Asian man with brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail, and bright, amber eyes.

Later, Kohler knocked on the door frame, Norge behind him. "Are your staterooms alright?"

"Yes, yes, very nice…" Arthur adjusted the picture on the table, then smiled and nodded, satisfied. "Have to have my pictures when I travel…" He turned to face him then, that same polite—and somewhat forced—smile on his face, almost contrasted by the fiery look in his bright green eyes.

"Is there anything I can get you? Anything at all?" Mathias asked.

This time, he smiled for real, folding his hands in his lap. "Yes. I would like to see my drawing."

The drawing sat where it had been for the past two days; in the lab in a small, glass case with no lid, and filled with distilled water. Arthur leaned up to get a better view of it, and when his eyes traced over the flawless curves and lines, his mind flashed back to the night it happened. The sound of the pencil on the paper, the thud of his own heart, and the gaze of a pair of bright, beautiful crystalline eyes.

He opened his eyes again and sat back down carefully, smiling sadly.

"The Heart of the Ocean was originally worn by King Louis the 16th," Mathias recited, picking up the photo of the diamond, "Back then it was called the Blue Diamond of the Crown. That was around the time ol' Louis lost everything from the neck up, and the Crown Diamond was chopped too; cut into a heart-like shape that became known as the Heart of the Ocean." Kohler made his way next to Arthur, "There was an old claim made under terms of absolute secrecy. Can you tell me who the claimant was?"

Arthur smirked, "I should imagine a man named Bonnefoy."

Ice and Norge looked at each other in shock, and Mathias grinned, "Francis Bonnefoy, that's right. Son of the famous Pittsburgh Steel Tycoon. The claim was for a diamond Francis bought his fiancé… you."

Arthur nodded, scowling. "I hated that man... And that diamond? It was a bloody rock, and not a light one either. I only wore it this once." He gestured to the drawing. Lee leaned over to look at it.

"You really think this is you, Gramps?" he asked. Arthur looked at him, smirk ever-present.

"It is me, love. Wasn't I a hot one?" Arthur laughed to himself, then coughed a bit.

Ice spoke up from where he and Norge were standing, behind the table where the drawing was, "Look at the date on that drawing."

Lee leaned in, and read off the date, "April fourteenth, 1912…"

"Which means if your Grandfather is who he says he is," Norge said, " then he was wearing the diamond the day the Titanic sank."

Mathias smiled at Arthur, "And that makes you my new best friend."

After a short animated video and explanation of how the Titanic sank, Arthur smiled, lost in memories.

"Thank you for that very forensic analysis, Mr. Claussen, I'm very glad you know how to work a computer."

Kristjan snickered, Mathias doubled over in laughter, and Norge began choking him. Ice pulled his brother off and sat him down. Arthur chuckled and continued.

"But the experience of it was somewhat different."

The air in the room suddenly became serious, and Mathias (once he freed himself from the Nord's grasp) took up a tape recorder. "Will you share it with us?"

Arthur was about to answer, then he noticed the video taken from the Mir 2 on the screen next to Mathias's head. His eyes widened, and he got up from his wheelchair. Shuffling slowly over to the screen, he saw the first class doors into the grand ballroom, and visualized what it had looked like before. He heard the fine violin music, saw all the people, and covered his mouth as the memories came rushing back: Southampton, the horn, shoving off, the meals, the beds, the crew, the passengers, the iceberg, the boats, the water… His eyes grew even wider, and his head fell into his hands. "O-oh…"

Lee came quickly up behind him and gently held his grandfather's shoulders, "I'm taking him to rest."

Voice weak, Arthur refused. "N-no."

"C'mon, Gramps…"

"No!" Arthur brought his head back up and shuffled back to his wheelchair. Mathias pulled up a chair and sat backwards in it. Ice leaned against the table, and Norge also pulled up a chair.

"Tell us, Arthur..." Mathias said softly, turning on the tape recorder. Arthur closed his eyes for a second, and folded his hands on his lap again.

"It's been… eighty four years—"

"That's okay," Kohler said, "Just try to remember anything. Anything at all…"

"If you would bloody let me finish…" Arthur snapped. Mathias held up his hands defensively and apologized.

"Wanker…" Arthur grumbled before beginning again, "It's been eighty for years… and I can still smell the fresh paint. The china had never been used. The sheets had never been slept in. Titanic was called the ship of dreams, and it was… It really was…"

And that's where I'm gonna cut it off. Comments? Questions? Leave them in a review. Negativity? Complaints? Lemme quote Bambi: "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all." That doesn't count constructive criticism. ^-^ I'm not taking any crap on this story. It has my all-time favorite movie, my all-time favorite pairing, and my all-time favorite anime.