A/N- Ooohh, my first FanFic! Woo to the hoo! Please no flames! And I'm sorry if it's terrible. Also... I can't find the exact date, because different sources keep saying different dates, but I'm going with this one, that Prussia was officially dissolved in 1947?

There are lots of things I hate.

First of all, I hate Russians. Well, ja, not Russians, because that'd be pretty stereotypical and some of the Russians I've met have been very kind and helpful. Like, it'd piss me off if someone said, I hate Germans, or I hate Prussians. It's just not awesome. More specifically I hate Russia- the Mother Russia, Ivan Braginsky.

I also hate the taste of blood. It brings back bad memories.

Most of all, I hate the smell of roses.

Roses were the scent I smelled as I took my last breath, as my heart stopped. That was the smell that was in Germany's house the day I died.

"Don't cry," I had said shakily. "Bruder, it's not awesome. It doesn't suit you."

"I'm not crying," Germany had replied. "I'm not, Prussia."

"Bruder..."

When I came to, I found myself in some kind of field. The sky is gray, like rain should be coming but there's no humidity at all. The temperature is cool, and the grass is green, not prickly. White flowers bloom, scattered across the field at random intervals.

"Hallo?" I scream as loud as I can.

No answer.

Nowhere to go. "Scheißen," I spit angrily. "Where am I?"

I must be in heaven or some sort of afterlife, and it sounds stupid, but my first thought was, Do I have wings? Nein, I checked.

The last thing I remember was Germany, Deutschland, West, Bruder, whatever you'll call him, hugging me. He was crying, I can almost swear. My last days were a blur- 1947, I was just clinging onto life when I found I was going to be dissolved, for real this time, and I had about a month to do whatever I wanted.

So I had a month days to fill out my bucket list- the thing I had spent a while making, and I had hundreds of years to do it all, but never did any of it.

My last days of life were by far the best. I forced so much adrenaline into my body I couldn't even think about what was to come. I traveled the world, spending one night in each place, using up all my money. I started bar fights. I went up on the Eiffel Tower with France to say my goodbyes, and we took a box full of Euros and dumped them over the side, watching them rain down, people staring up in wonder.

I said goodbye to my loved ones (okay, fine, that includes Hungary).

I set Russia's house on fire, watching the smoke and flames curl up over the snow. Laughing, then running.

If I could have lived my entire life like I lived the last month of it, I would have never wanted anything ever again.

I decide not to leave the field. Nobody comes, either, and the sky never darkens, even when lightning splits the sky, lighting things up so bright it's like the clouds are gone.

Rain pours down, but right before a drop hits me, the air shudders. The world- or afterlife, or whatever- freezes into a stop, and the raindrops hang suspended in the sky, not moving, hovering just in front of my face, across the field, still.

It's so beautiful, like someone took ten million tiny diamonds and hung them from the sky.

I reach out in wonder, my red eyes wide, and touch a raindrop with my finger. It dissolves slowly, leaving no trace of water on my fingertip. One by one, the drops disintegrate slowly, fading away like a movie transition, leaving the sky clear but still gray.

I'm sitting down already, but I lower myself onto the ground. It's still dry.

"Mein Gott," I whisper.

Where am I?