The sequel of Yggdrasil. Multi-chapters.
Warning : mention of past character death and blood. Grammatical errors.
Main characters : Italy Veneziano, Italy Romano, hint of Spamano, CanaRoma and EngMano friendship.
I do not own Hetalia or HetaOni
In today's world meeting, America was being loud and proposing absurd ideas like always. England was baring tooth and fangs with France as usual. Greece was asleep on his seat and Japan was still trying to listen to America as usual. Prussia was sitting in the corner and teasing Hungary like usual. China still sat on a seat in a safe distance from Russia like usual. Germany looked like he was ready to burst, like usual.
And like usual, like always, Italy was smiling through the whole meeting. He laughed once in a while if England and France were being too loud or if America's plan was too ridiculous or if a spine popped on Germany's forehead.
He hummed something about pasta and doodled on his notes, drawing detailed flowers and wide sceneries on the margins and the blank papers.
2 days after that day, no one had wanted to go back to their respective homes yet. England was silent in his lack of vision. America couldn't stop fiddling with anything that he could salvage from his pockets. China kept Japan close and for once, the latter didn't seem to mind. Korea huddled close to them and they curled into themselves, Japan in the middle. There were still traces of tears on Canada's face, and France had an arm around him, gently squeezing his shoulder. Russia was squished between his sisters, funny, because he was such a big guy. Ukraine had his palm in hers and was tracing circles on it while humming a soft lullaby in Russian. Belarus had his other hand on what looked like a death grip, but no one mentioned how her hand trembled lightly and how her fingers curled up around his almost desperately.
Spain was silent and alone in the corner, refusing to approach, refusing to let anyone approach, still as a statue. Prussia sat not far from him, knees up to his chest and hand playing with the lighter even though it had long since run out of fuel.
Germany sat next to Veneziano, not too far, not too close. He didn't hug him, he didn't circle his arm around him, he didn't say anything.
Italy Veneziano was silent, still, and numb. The fire in his eyes had long since died. He had refused to wash his hands, or change his clothes, or let go of the key.
He had refused to forgive.
Canada tried to say something, and as always no one seemed to hear him. But he tried again and this time France wasn't the only one turning to his direction. America stopped his rant for a while to listen, and even France and England seemed to cease their bickering.
After the proposal had been said, some other countries began to express their opinions regarding that. America interrupted loudly again and England had deemed it necessary to push some sense into him, and before long it was the same thing happening all over again.
Italy laughed at that and left his doodling.
2 weeks after that, everyone had headed back to their countries. England's sight was recovering, and they guessed that it might be that they were out of that place, their nation's status was back. They heard America had started sleeping in Canada's place. Ukraine and Belarus each sewn new scarf for Russia despite having just given him one. China refused to let both Japan and Korea back yet, demanding them to stay at his place. Prussia went drinking and knocked himself out every night, something that almost never happened before. Germany took every paperwork available and didn't sleep for those two weeks working on them.
Spain didn't come out of his house since he came back and he spent almost all of his time in the garden, tending tomatoes and other plants and still hanging around in there even though they had been watered and the soil had been sowed and the fertilizer had been spread.
Veneziano refused to be called Italy. He swore at his superior when they did and he glared at his fellow nations when it slipped through their tongues. He cleaned himself when he was back, but he didn't do laundry and hung the bloodied clothes inside his wardrobe. He slept on his side of the bed, did his part of the cleaning, wash only his own clothes, and tended only his own plants.
Everyone was relieved when the meeting was over. Russia went over to harass the Baltics and Poland came flying at him with a kick. England gave France one good pull on his mouth before America came and asked him to have dinner together. Canada came to the slightly disarrayed France a moment later and they left together for their hotel. China was having a wrestle with Korea in the latter's attempt to grope him. Japan left with Greece after his siblings made him promise to have a meal with them later. Prussia had Spain in a headlock and dragged him to go drinking with him, Denmark, and Netherlands.
Italy waited for Germany to finish cleaning his paper. He was still smiling lightly, and when the German finally closed his briefcase, he took his arm and demanded for lunch.
2 months after that, the world meeting was finally held again. Everyone was sullen and no one had really wanted to say anything. It could be said that the meeting passed in an almost complete silence.
Canada avoided looking at the empty seat across of him completely. England set his now seeing eyes ahead, blankly at the whiteboard, at the statistics and graphs and numbers and the proof that the world was still spinning, would still be spinning.
Spain's seat was empty.
Veneziano didn't look at anyone, didn't talk to anyone, even to Germany, or to Canada, or to England, or to Austria and Hungary.
He still refused to be called Italy.
They left the next day with the morning flight. Japan had politely declined his offer to take him to the airport with his car. Germany looked very pale like always when he stumbled out of the car. The other nations who took the morning flight were already gathered in the airport, chatting and laughing.
Italy saw them all of with a smile, before returning to his car. Outside the airport, he inhaled the air and took in all of the morning activities around him. Looking up at the blue sky, a small smile gracing his lips. It looked like today would be sunny.
2 years after that, England had started bickering with France again. America had started playing horror video games and dragged Japan to come play with him again. Russia had started to 'be friendly' with the Baltics and gotten into fights with Poland again. China had started to try to sell everything to them again. Prussia had started go drinking with Denmark and Netherlands again. Canada still visited Italy once every few months, his wistful smile and the sorrow in his eyes didn't go away even after two years.
Germany had started to scold him again.
Spain had started to smile again.
Veneziano had finally accepted to be called Italy by his superiors. None of his fellow nations did to him though, and he was thankful.
Italy had started to try to smile again.
20 years actually meant nothing compared to the decades they had gone through. But that also meant that even after 20 years, the memory, the pain, the sorrow, and the hatred wouldn't completely go away.
Both sides of the bed were now made. The laundry basket was empty since he did laundry this morning. The garden was bursting with every color of tomatoes and carnations and lilies and asters and spices.
The bloodied shirt was still hung inside his wardrobe, now turning brown from all the blood stains, but the red was still fresh in his vision everytime he saw it.
It'd been 20 years but he still refused to forgive.