(I would like to say before you begin reading that this is in no way affiliated with Tomoyoshi, nor is this an official ending for the fan game HetaOni made by Tomoyoshi. This was written for entertainment purposes only. Hetalia characters belong to Himaryu Hidekaz. HetaOni belongs to Tomoyoshi. The only thing belonging to me is the plot. THIS IS NOT A READER INSERT STORY SO TURN BACK NOW IF THAT'S WHAT YOU WERE EXPECTING. With all that out of the way, please begin reading and please, please, please enjoy! :D Thank you!)
There was a light he was reaching out for in the heavy darkness, a light that continued to flicker and evade his grasp until the moment he took his last breath. He had promised them he'd get out with them, but in truth, he knew he wouldn't make it out alive. His time was ticking here. The clocks never stopped moving, no matter how broken or damaged they may have been. It had been a nice thought, naturally, but it was a lie, a dream that would never come true, and he knew that more than anyone else.
Despite the metaphorical darkness he walked in, the sunlight illuminated the white walls of that same cursed mansion and gave it some sort of twisted beauty that even words could not describe. But those same white walls, moments later, were stained red. In the elongated hallways of a long since forgotten edifice, the hallways grew even longer. Escape was hopeless, unless...
Ragged breaths and soft whimpers with the accompanying rumble of death sounded from somewhere far behind. "No, not again," a soft voice whined, the figure curling up at the adjoining section between two walls. "Please... Please not again! I can't... I can't go back in time again! I don't have the journal! I don't have anything!
Just take me and let them live! You can have me! I ran as fast and as far as I could for as long as I could, but I can't do this anymore! I'm tired! I'm so tired of watching them die! Just let them live and take me! I'm what you want, remember?! Just... just let them go!"
His heart was hammering against his chest. His mind was whirling. Memories of a lifetime ago were playing themselves over in his head and he felt like he'd lost what little sanity he had left. The first day he met Ludwig, the first time he hugged Kiku, and the first time he'd gone out with Gilbert and nearly put himself into an alcoholic coma, which, frankly, he never thought was possible: it all came back to him. Memories. He'd forgotten so many because of this place, because of its curse, and because he had gone back in time as much as he had. Now, at the end of the line and pushed far passed his limit, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back. Tears rolled down his cheeks.
The least he could do was remember before he died.
How Francis and Arthur hated each others guts and how he ran away from them in fear.
How Ivan loved sunflowers and vodka and how sweet the Russian could be...
How Alfred so dearly loved Independence Day and how he celebrated it every Fourth of July.
How Kiku cherished his manga and anime and how he hated to be touched.
How his brother, Lovino, loved him in such an odd way and how he loved his brother in return.
How Antonio could never read the mood.
He wanted to remember. He desperately wanted to remember.
How Gilbert was such an intelligent guy but always played stupid.
How Matthew went unnoticed when he was such a sweet person who cared so, so much.
How Vasch hated his very existence and loved to use him as target practice.
How Lilli always treated him so kindly even though her big brother didn't want her to.
He had to remember.
How Roderich was gentle while being strict, even though he'd shown it in such unusual ways.
How Elizaveta cared for him like she was his mother.
"Remember," he urged himself, the sound of footsteps growing ever closer. "I have... I have to remember them before I go."
How Holy Rome was his first and last kiss and his only love until...
Ludwig.
"Germany... you're so mad at me right now, aren't you...? I wouldn't be surprised..."
The tears fell harder and faster down Italy's blood smeared pallor cheeks. His breathing grew more labored. He drew his legs up to his chest and rested his head on his knees, hoping that all of this would go away, that this nightmare would just end.
Another loud rumble. Steve was getting closer. "I'm... I'm going to miss you, Germany... I really will, but we'll see each other again someday." Italy lifted his head up, opened his eyes, and smiled sadly. "I-I promise you, Germany! No! I... I promise you Ludwig! I promise that no matter what, this time you'll get out... And I promise I won't run away anymore..."
A small gap of seven feet rested between Steve and the crying Italian in the corner. How quickly that space could be closed, but it wasn't crossed for the longest time. There stood, in silence, death itself, waiting patiently to strike. And oh how Steve was relishing, savoring, this moment. He loved to see such agony from the personification of a nation, especially one like Italy, one that had been fragile and gentle and loving from the beginning, unwilling to inflict pain until the end where only pain could have saved him.
Large, black eyes leveled down so they were even with Italy's crumpled up form. The Italian didn't stir in fear or in anything else. He simply looked back into those black tar pits that ate and swallowed and consumed everything whole. His own amber irises were hollow, void of any life as he stood up and accepted his fate. He crossed what little shadow was cast out in front of him, and he stood, numb and emotionless, broken inside, in front of Steve. He awaited his death with the utmost patience, because it'd be wrong to do otherwise. "You win," Feliciano whispered, slowly raising his arms out to his side. "I promised Germany I wouldn't run anymore.
I won't break my promise to Doitsu."
These words laid thick on the air and the metaphorical darkness grew even darker. A blackness embraced them, so heavy and deep that Italy couldn't see his own hand waving around in front of his face.
He stood there in Steve's presence, alone and waiting to die. His already wounded body was nothing compared to the wounded heart beating inside of his chest. Maybe he'd been close to dead all along and that's why he didn't fear dying now. Or maybe it was because it meant his friends would get out alive and they'd no longer suffer the pain of time loops and he wouldn't be forced to watch them die again and again and again. Everyone would be spared.
"Do it already," Feliciano whined.
He wiped at his runny nose and allowed his arm to fall back into its raised position.
This time, Steve didn't hesitate. He snatched up the prey he'd been preying on for so long and moments later, a sickening snap echoed throughout the mansion.
"I can't believe we're doing this," Arthur hissed through labored breaths.
He pressed his hand firmly against the wound on his stomach and cursed at himself for pushing too hard. It was still fresh, still bleeding, and the laceration was still throbbing with pain. "We gotta get out, dude! Just run faster!"
"This is so unawesome!"
"I hate this, aru! We're so close to the exit and yet Italy's nowhere to be seen!"
"The little Sunflower will catch up to us very soon, da. Don't worry about him!"
Kiku glanced beside him, only to catch a blur of a green uniform and a blob of blonde hair: Ludwig. But even with his features smeared in the wind, almost like part of him was stuck in the past, Japan could see the worry on his friend's face. "Germany-san... He'll be okay..."
"I... I hope you're right, Japan." But something felt wrong.
"Hurry! Mon dieu! We're almost there!"
"Maple! We're gonna make it this time, guys! We're actually gonna make it!"
"Bastardo, hurry up! We can't poke around right now, dammit!"
"Don't worry, Roma! Boss is coming!"
The door seemed to smile at them. It shone brightly. Arthur shoved the key inside the knob and quickly unlocked what separated them from safety. "Wait! Wait for me!" another voice shouted.
Germany spun around on his heels, only to find Italy running after them, waving his arms frantically, and smiling like the same ditsy idiot he'd been when they'd first come here. He,like the door, seemed to be glowing. There was something fresh about him, something light and gentle and airy. This same energy radiated off of him and embraced the other nations and they happily accepted what warmth he had to offer. "Italy!" Germany cried, wanting nothing more than to hug his friend. He threw his arms out.
But Italy sidestepped and darted to the door. He raced over the threshold and into pure and unadulterated sunlight, smiling and crying and laughing like a fool and the other nations followed. Steve didn't appear to chase after them either. They were safe, free, and there was nothing better to any of them than having the ability to breathe again. It was such a nice feeling, one they'd forgotten somewhere in the past.
They weren't the only nations to appear. Korea, Austria, Hungary, Liechtenstein, Ukraine, Belarus, The Nordics, and the Baltics all appeared, too. They were all crying and hugging each other in laughter while the tears streamed down their cheeks and boiled over their eyes. For the first time, Canada was noticed and Russia was treated kindly and France and England got along and America was no longer a mindless idiot and they all decided to race back to the World Summit Place. They came to a conclusion the moment they'd all met outside that the mansion hidden deep within the woods would be demolished so no one would ever be trapped by its curse again.
Of course, Feliciano stuck to the back on the return journey home. That same light and airy feeling grew lighter and he seemed to glow more despite the depressed expression on his face. Sorrow stuck to him like glue to paper. He didn't want to talk, didn't want to laugh or cry or be a part of their group anymore, because he didn't stand with them now. He stood alone in that same darkness, his arms still outstretched, his fingers still reaching out for that flickering light that no longer flickered or shone or lived within the shadows where he lingered. He watched the nations in front of him with tears in his eyes and he smiled. "I made my promise to you, Ludwig," he whispered. "I didn't break it and I gave my all to make sure that I could keep it. Now promise me something..."
Birds chirped and a breeze blew. Butterflies flew from flower to flower to collect their fill of pollen. It was nice to see it all one last time. It was even nicer to see the World Summit Place growing larger and larger until the doors were closing in front of Italy's face.
Through the crack, as they started to moan out their deafening close, Ludwig turned to retrieve Italy, who he'd noticed had been incredibly quiet and withdrawn on the way back, something very much out of character for the Italian. "Hey, Italy!"
And in that moment, Germany noticed something. This brisk moment that seemed frozen in time carved Ludwig's heart out, threw it on the ground, and began stomping all over it. The translucent, broken smile on Italy's face grew.
Then the image of Italy shattered and dissipated altogether and the doors clicked closed. And when Germany opened them again, there was no trace that anyone had been there. In fact, had he not been certain that the Italian had been outside, he would have ignored it altogether and gone on with his day. "Italy?! ITALY!"
The only one to acknowledge the name was a pure white dove who floated into the sky on wings that looked like snow.
The mansion was destroyed. Not a trace of it remained. Even the basement had been demolished and the gaping hole left in the earth was filled with rock and sand and soil so that no one would discover there was once something there. Despite his protests and pleas for someone to go back inside to find Italy's body, Germany's requests were ignored. The building was knocked to the ground in a matter of seconds and whatever had been inside was crushed and thrown away with no inspection.
Italy watched from a distance, his eyes misting over with happy tears. "Grazie, Ludwig," he whispered, taking a deep breath. "Grazie for keeping your promise. Now I'll make one more to you, okay?"
Italy began to winnow away into the wind. "I promise that we'll meet again some day. With all my heart, I promise we'll meet again."
And as the sunlight left Italy glittering and glowing and the wind swallowed him up, he lifted his right arm up and waved, though no one could hear or see him. "Ciao, Germany! Ciao, Japan! Ciao, Prussia! Ciao, fratello! Ciao, ciao, ciao! Ciao, everyone! Ti amo!"
Germany turned to look behind him when a chill ran down his spine. When he saw no one was there, he turned back around, folded his arms over his chest, and smiled sadly. Japan looked up at the blonde. "What is it, Germany-san?"
"...Feliciano was saying goodbye..."
Japan tilted his head to the side, a melancholy grin on his face and simultaneously, they whispered, "Ciao, Italy..."
(This concludes my little fan made ending for HetaOni. I really appreciate you reading it, especially if you stuck around until the end. c: I know it's sappy and crappy and it sucks /you swallow/ but that's okay. I won't ask you to favorite, comment, or follow or anything like that because I get tired of reading those sorts of things myself, so instead, I want to thank you again! Means so, so much that you took time to read this! I hope you liked it! c: And yes, I did stray from the note that Italy wrote to himself and from the lessons Japan learned about doing this alone, but it had to be done, m'kay? I get writer's block if I ignore how my brain wants me to write something so yeah and stuff. Now I'm rambling, but whatcha gonna do? Seriously though. Have an incredible, virtual day! Love you all! x)