Where was he…?
He felt around himself, his range limited; his arms confined to his side, and his legs unable to move properly. Where was he again…? He wanted to curse – he disliked not being able to move, much less be stuck lying immobile on something – he didn't know exactly what. Then again he felt like his energy had been drained, he was weak, both physically and mentally.
Had he died in war…?
The last thing he remembered was the sound of soldiers, charging on horseback, fighting the enemy. Such brave, gallant men – but who was the enemy again? Flashes of light, screams of pain, a yell – for him, maybe – his memory failed him. He dug through his mind; what had become of him anyway?
Something blunt irritated his side; it was rough – a stone? He did not know; he was not sure whether he could trust his sense of touch or not – after all he, while not exactly a human, relied on his sense of sight like others.
Small as it was, a sudden flash of light seemed to blind him through closed eyelids. Was he in heaven – or another place of its equivalent?
The hole, the light, grew steadily larger – like the opening of the gates of heaven. He wanted to move, but remained glued to his spot. The light grew – it seemed so close, just a few steps and he would be entering through those huge gates.
He desperately wanted to walk towards the opening.
Gathering all of his strength, he lifted himself up. Head free from whatever restrained him earlier, he slowly pulled himself up, and in a few seconds his body was free too.
A hand made its way to rub one eye. His eyes slowly fluttered open, but quickly closed. The light hurt his eyes, being unused for who-knows-how-long could do that to someone. His body felt the strain too. He continued to stand, trying to endure the pain he felt all over.
He opened his eyes again; when he was sure enough he could endure the light.
Odd… he did not remember being tall.
He looked around. He did not recognize the place, but he felt attached to it in some way. Trees towered over his form, seeming to touch the wide beautiful blue above. He tried reaching for the sky, holding out his hand and stretching it until it cannot go any further. The earth beneath was lush with grass, except for that one patch of dirt in the ground – where he had woken up. This world, different from what he'd grown up in, was beautiful. He really wondered if he was in heaven.
He couldn't be – in heaven, there was no sadness, no pain; at least, that was what he was told and what he perceived it to be. There was still a lingering feeling in his chest that he couldn't brush off.
I'll be waiting…
That voice – he remembered. The voice was sweet like honey, and it made him blush around like a madman whenever he heard it. A voice that could make him happy in every way possible, he loved it.
That same voice was what kept him alive through all the hardships he suffered when he was alive.
He sighed. Was he in hell then?
No – hell was filled with sadness and never ending pain. While the feeling in his chest did not fade, he was very sure that it was nothing, something left over from his past life.
That still couldn't satisfy his curiosity. Then… had he been reborn?
He was startled when he heard a small squeak beside him. He knelt down and picked up something small and furry. Funny – rats used to scare him back then; they were filthy abominations capable of wiping out an entire empire with their disease.
"Was it you that woke me?" He was surprised; he did not remember his voice being that low.
A twitch of the nose, the rat did not answer back in the way he expected. Did it mean yes? The furry little creature wiggled out of his grip and scurried over to the hole in the ground. He followed him; it was like the rodent was showing him something. Cerulean eyes peered inside the hole.
He took out a large black hat, decorated with gold. His eyes widened a bit; he held something special, part of his identity – the hat of the Holy Roman Empire.
So he had died, laid to rest in this place – and been reborn centuries later… he wondered; his empire had crumbled and dissolved centuries ago, how could he be reborn?
He looked further in the hole in the ground. He fingered the torn black fabric he found – probably from his tunic.
Wait a minute, if these were from his clothes then –
.
.
.
!
A cold breeze blew his way, and he shivered. He grabbed a few fallen branches; how did he not realize he was stark naked in a forest? He blushed in embarrassment; he probably looked like a ripe red apple.
He grabbed whatever he could from the hole. He sighed; the pieces of cloth were not enough to cover him. The rat, almost forgotten in the boy's dilemma, nibbled on a blade of grass. It ran away, leaving the male.
Meanwhile, Holy Rome worried about being nude.
OoOoOoO
He cursed; tearing another leaf. How was he going to finish his makeshift clothing? He got another leaf, and broke that one too.
He was about to give up when he heard that familiar squeak.
The rat had gone?
Holy Rome did not pay attention to it at first, until he saw the fabric in the rodent's mouth. The animal stopped in front of him and dropped the cloth.
Clothes… this creature gave me clothes?
He held the clothing in the air. It was a plain button down shirt, light blue in color. It was a bit big for him; this was clearly meant to be worn by a heavyset, muscular man – it would not fit, he was of lean build. Nevertheless, he wore it. It was long, reaching below the crotch area.
As he fiddled with the buttons – his fingers were still a bit shaky, another gift was dropped near him, a pair of trousers. He slipped them on; he did not particularly care about not having underwear.
In a few minutes, he was dressed and ready – but, for what?
He decided to pursue what he wanted back then – a nation he held so dear.
Italy.
I loved you…
I'm coming back…
Since the 900s...
Wait for me…?
OoOoOoO
It's been a while since I wrote and a while since I updated any of my other fics. I just want to say something.
I hate writer's block.
My mind's been blank for a while, so I decided to try and think of something. I read something about rebirth of nations in Hetalia, and then old questions about HRE resurfaced.
One of those was: "What if HRE, all grown up, was reborn? What if he isn't Germany? What if HRE, Italy, and Germany all met? What would happen?"
Ok… that wasn't really one question. Well, it lead to this. Please tell me if I made HRE OC in this one.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia...