How You've Grown

"Mein gott. Gil, can't you figure it out on your own?" Ludwig said, annoyed with his older brother. It would be different if they were talking ab out war tactics and battle strategies. Hell, Ludwig would understand if they were talking about baking. After all, Gilbert never really inherited any culinary talents and is almost as bad as Arthur in the kitchen. But God, couldn't Gilbert understand something as simple as using a vacuum cleaner?

"I keep telling you," the red-eyed male retorted, "I know how to use one. I just refuse to use that stupid thing." And he did. It's just that after the last time he tried using the vacuum while Ludwig was out...well, let's just say that none of Ludwig's pets go near Gilbert as often as they used to anymore.

The blonde heaved a sigh as he combed his hair back with his hands. Ludwig got up from the couch and walked towards the closet. If his brother couldn't handle something "complex" and modern like a vacuum, he might as well use a broomstick and dustpan. Honestly, what was Ludwig going to do with this ridiculous excuse for an older brother?

"Here," Ludwig said as he held out the broom. Gilbert waited for a moment before retrieving it alone with the dustpan. "Now, I want the attic to be clean when I come back," the blonde ordered as he glanced at the clock. "Damn, I'm already late for the meeting. I'll see you later, bruder."

"J-Ja, see you later," the Prussian muttered as he hesitantly waved his brother goodbye. When the door clicked shut, Gilbert realized that he could blow the whole cleaning business off and have a beer instead. But knowing the wrath of his younger brother, well, Gilbert has kept this off for long enough. Besides, they couldn't have that much stuff in the attic, right?

Wrong.

"O-Oh, shit,"Gilbert groaned once he saw the dust-covered boxes. That room was just filled with boxes and boxes galore and it seemed like the dust had no end, either. Since when did they collect so much stuff? Gilbert would have guess that since Ludwig is a notorious clean freak that someone could at least see the floor. Now, the Prussian had been through numerous battles and faced that crazed Hungarian when she was on her monthly. But this was by far one of the scariest things he has ever seen, considering that his younger brother either chose to not clean this place, or forgot to.

Gilbert dragged the broom and dustpan behind him and managed to start his chores. He mentally kept note of which things to tackle first—the floor, any visible cobwebs and finally, the boxes.

"Finally, almost done," Gilbert sighed as he lifted a few boxes. He was magically able to sweep out most of the dust, that is, until Aster and Berlitz decided to interrupt the Prussian's cleaning. However, he got them to go to the backyard and resumed cleaning, getting most of the work done. As he placed the boxes down, something black caught his eye.

"What the..."

It was a black chest with gold accents. It seemed pretty damaged on the outside for the most part, but it still retained its form. Gilbert walked over to the chest and smoothed his hand over its surface, dust collecting in between his fingers. He shook his head and clapped his hands to rid them of the dust. With his curiosity getting the best of him, Gilbert lift up the top, revealing what seemed to be tattered, worn out clothes and other things. However, what stood out the most in that chest were a few books that were falling apart, the pages barely clinging onto the spine. He picked up the book and flipped through the faded pages, noticing that the words were barely understandable.

That's when he realized it.

A crooked smile swiped across his lips as he let out a chuckle. He knew exactlywhat all of this stuff was, although he could hardly believe that any of it still existed.

The Thirty Years' War had been long since over. What was left of the Holy Roman Empire was now divided and conquered by other nations, leaving the former empire to crumble into nothing but a memory that was to be recorded in a history textbook. However, out of everyone in Europe, there was a group of people, representatives of their home countries, who were the most effected.

As always, Gilbert made his way towards his cousin, Roderich's, home. Usually, he would visit to tease the aristocrat for being

"weak" and for his cheapness. But this visit would be completely different. In fact, the Prussian wasn't even sure if he could even call this a visit. No, it was more...of a custody battle.

"What on earth took you so long?" Roderich asked, obviously impatient. Gilbert rolled his eyes at the other man as they glared at each other in the doorway.

"Well, aren't you going to invite me in?" Gilbert spat, annoyed. With a small "hmph" from

Roderich, he followed the man into the mansion. In a way, Gilbert had always been jealous of Roderich's living arrangements. But now wasn't the time to be jealous.

Both men entered a room that was already occupied by several other people. Among those people were Elizaveta and Francis. Without being told, Gilbert found a seat and relaxed, slipping back into the couch. Anyone who walked in at that moment could sense the tension hanging in the air. At some point, after shifting gazes and awkwardly exchanging glances, Roderich cleared his throat and stood in front of everyone.

"As you all know by now, the Holy Roman Empire is no more," the Austrian stated, leaving Francis to nearly flinch at his words as if he was being accused. "However, the main issues lies within another nation. I'm not sure if you were all aware of this, but while we were on a search, Gilbert, Francis and I have made a discovery. From the ashes of the Holy Roman Empire is a newer nation."

The entire room exploded in gasps and anger. However, Roderich managed to maintain his composure and continued on. "Quiet, everyone! I know this is shocking. However, we were all brought here today to figure out who will oversee this new nation's growth and development. As fellow nation representatives, we cannot allow any repeats of what has already happened. We need someone strong, who can help raise this new nation into someone who can support their people. Is there anyone who would like to volunteer?" As the Austrian stared into the sea of angry faces, he couldn't help but feel as if this was all a lost cause.

"I say that it should be Francis!" someone shouted. "He ended the empire, so he should help rebuild it!" The blonde immediately frowned, his face twisting into guilt.

"Hey, Austria, if you're so adamant in getting a caretaker for this kid, why don't you do it?"

"I think it should be a female rep!"

"What? That's not right! If you're such a 'man,' then raising a nation shouldn't be challenging!"

"Alright, all of you shut up!"

CRASH!

Everyone's petty arguments ceased as their attention turned towards Gilbert and the shattered cup on the floor. He inhaled deeply, his eyes narrowing into angered slits. "Don't any of you get it? What the aristocrat is trying to say is that if we don't want a repeat of the war, we should raise this nation into something great!"

"Well, then," Roderich said as he adjusted his glasses, "Why don't you take care of this nation,

Gilbert?"

Gilbert closed the book in his hands and placed it down gently. He heaved a pained sigh as he began to shuffle through the chest again. The deeper he dug, the more books he found. Was this really all there was to this chest? Either way, Gilbert didn't really care. They were still full of memories, even if he was the only one who remembered.

He should have known better than to speak out at Roderich's house. Now, he was stuck with a child who refused to say a word. Everyone thinks it's because of the trauma, and part of Gilbert believed so, too.

"J-Ja, so this is your new home," Gilbert said as he opened the door.

A small boy with golden locks and crystal eyes followed him into the house. It wasn't really impressive in anyway, but it did feel like a "home", so to speak. The young boy observed his surroundings. By the lost expression imprinted on his face, Gilbert could tell that this was going to take a lot of getting used to. He eyed the red bag the young boy was carrying. Roderich had told Gilbert that the young boy didn't have that much when they found him, but was this really all that he had?

Gilbert knelt down so that he met the child eye to eye. Those crystals seemed so lost, so frightened even though the child's seemingly blank expression said otherwise. Hesitantly, Gilbert placed his hands on the boy's shoulders, waiting for a reaction. The young boy remained unnerved by this and merely stared into Gilbert's eyes. Those red orbs, the boy had never seen anything like them. To the boy, they only added more mystery to this stranger who was suddenly taking him in, as if he were his own.

"I guess we're going to have to give you a name, right?"

The boy nodded in response. A name, he thought.

I...I had a name...before I met this man. But what was it?

"Hm, we can't give you something too overly-dramatic," Gilbert said. If there was anything the Prussian didn't know what to do, it was naming a child.

It was something strong.

Gilbert put a hand to his chin and eyed the boy. "What's wrong?"

The boy merely shook his head, not saying a word. Damn it, Gilbert thought. Getting him to talk is going to be harder than I thought.

The boy's eyes wandered, escaping Gilbert's gaze. Instead, those crystal orbs focused on the sword that rested on the man's hip. For some reason, the boy felt drawn to it, as if the sword was calling out to him. Everything about it was fascinating, from the sheath to the hilt.

When a moment or two had passed, Gilbert finally realized what the boy was looking at and smiled. "Heh, when you're a little older," he said, "I'll teach you how to use it, okay?"

And that's when it stuck him.

"Hey,"Gilbert said. "How about I call you...Ludwig?"

The boy continued to stare with a puzzled expression.

"You see," the Prussian began, "Ludwig means 'warrior'. So how about it? I'll tell you all my greatest secrets and all of these techniques you can learn!"

The child nodded. What else was there to say?

"Damn, this old thing," Gilbert chuckled as he dusted off one of the books. The cover was non-existent, leaving the aged pages to dangle delicately from the bindings. Carefully, he traced his fingers over the paper, taking in the memories.

Gilbert wasn't really the type of man to be stuck in a study for days on end. But for some reason, his superiors ordered him to study past battle tactics from different civilizations. He wasn't sure what they were up to, but he did know that it was important. After all, orders were orders and he couldn't protest. He flipped through every book intensively, his eyes rapidly scanning every paragraph.

"E-Excuse me..."

Who could possibly bother him at this time?

"Ja, what is it?" he asked gruffly. He heard a small frightened breath come from behind it.

"O-Oh, Ludwig," Gilbert said as he got up from his chair. The boy was standing by the doorway, clutching a thin book in his hand. By now, Ludwig learned how to speak a few phrases, although sometimes, he would slip back into whatever accent he originally had. Even though he didn't really know what to say to him, Gilbert tried talking to him at least once everyday so that Ludwig could get used to speaking in a German accent.

"What's wrong? Shouldn't you be asleep by now?" the older one asked.

Ludwig nodded in response, holding the book he held in his hands in front of him. "Story," he said. "Read story, please."

Gilbert heaved a sigh as he moved from his desk to the couch and patted the seat next to him. Ludwig made his way over and climbed onto the seat, shifting around until he was comfortable.

"Alright, what do we have here..." Gilbert said as he retrieved the book from the boy. "Hm, Hansel and Gretel, huh? Haven't told this one in a while. Let's see...once upon a time..."

Now that he looked back on it, Gilbert was rather fond of the memories he created with his brother. Although it was hard at first, he somehow managed to pull through and now, his brother was independent and doing well for himself. Not only that, but he has changed his entire outlook on the world and helps others when he can. It would be an understatement if Gilbert said he was proud, although, he wouldn't admit it so openly. After all, Ludwig never really liked it when Gilbert made a fuss over him.

The Prussian stood up from the chest and grabbed the broom. He figured that he had wasted enough time looking at precious memories than doing what Ludwig told him to do. However, a strange sensation overwhelmed him.

Cleaning...

Gilbert repeated that simple word over and over.

She was always cleaning...

That's what he would say, he thought. She...who was 'she'?

After all these years, Gilbert still never really managed to figure out who Ludwig would talk about. Sometimes, he would have just talk during dinner and say, "...she was cleaning."

Gilbert furrowed his eyebrows. What made him think of something so trivial? It's not like it could have mattered that much, right? He shook his head and decided to go back to his chores. As he took the broom with both hands, he couldn't help but glance at it, as if it were trying to tell him something.

Wait...this broom...

The man let out a hearty laugh. Without knowing it, he had the answer in his hands the whole time.

I'll let him figure it out on his own.

A/N: Hey guys. This was something random that I came up with...

...well, actually, the original one-shot I was going to write was going to focus on Germany's accent, which was something a friend brought up. She had told me that she always thought it was weird that Holy Roman Empire had an Italian accent while Germany had...well, a German accent in the English dub. That said, my friend is a total HRE=Germany fan (I'm not so much), and I told her that if you think about it and research it a bit, it would make sense that Holy Roman Empire had an Italian accent. Anyways, the question we ended up asking ourselves was: If Germany really is Holy Roman Empire, why did his accent change?

And that's when I came up with this story. I ended up thinking that maybe after getting injured from the war, Holy Roman Empire was hurt to the point where he had amnesia and couldn't perform simple tasks—such as talking—for a while. Then, after growing up with Prussia, he began to mimic the way Prussia spoke and ended up with a German accent.

So yeah. That's how this story came to be. I hope you all enjoyed it. Until next time~