A/N: Well here goes the short ficlets. I'm just digging up old things from my tumblr or my document folders. I've decided to be more lenient with what I post.
The following Drabble was inspired by a comic I saw on tumblr.
Disclaimer: As always nothing to do with history or anything.
Summary: Prussia decides it is time to go and only one nation is allowed to see it. Contains Character death.
"So…you're really going to leave now."
"Seems about time. I think my brother is doing very well now on his own—actually being more awesome than me ahaha—so I feel like I'm ready to move on. I've seen what I wanted to see here. How about you? Why aren't you leaving yet?"
"Ah," The man beside him leaned back, "Not yet. I don't think so."
"Over 4000 years huh?"
The black-haired man lifted the corners of his mouth, "Still not enough."
The other man got up and stretched, "I feel like an old man with a young body, even more so than when I was a great nation. Doesn't suit the awesome me at all!"
"They'll miss you, you know…"
"Europe won't." He said with a laugh then went on in a more serious tone. "France and Spain are never going to forgive me. They'll probably curse my name in their eulogy. Maybe they'll believe this is just another one of my pranks. That's the kind of best friends they are…losers…"
He ended his words wistfully. His grin softening. The yellow bird on his head remained silent.
"What about your brother?"
"I've been teaching him for long enough. He has stood strong these past years and I believe he'll continue to do so without need of me. My own great chapters have come and gone. All I've been doing is lingering around. Speaking of which-" He took a step forward, "-I should probably go."
The other looked up, still seated but kept his calm face in tact. He had seen many others go before him. It was awkward to speak to him since neither of them were particularly close. Then again, that was the point.
"I guess…this is goodbye…"
He nodded. "Goodbye. Maybe we'll see you there on the other side."
"Maybe…" the other man said to the now empty air.
A gentle breeze blew in through the window and caressed the curtains. Germany knocked on the door twice, then after receiving no response, opened it slowly. On the bed, there lay a book, a journal of some sort. The breeze had blown it back to its first page, its first entry. A pile of photographs lay beside it.