Warning: This is really, really fucking sad and written almost solely for the purpose of venting about recent events in my own life. I'm sorry about the gloominess of the fic overall, but this was the least harmful way to get it out and I figured some people like this kind of thing sometimes, myself included.
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or this situation; experiencing doesn't equal ownership
The weather was pure perfection; the sun was shining, but there were enough clouds in the sky to keep it from being overly bright or hot, while not giving the threat of rain. There was a gentle breeze in the air, but nothing was blowing around obnoxiously.
Francis hated it.
The weather was out of place at this gloomy occasion. All of their class was present, but there was none of the usual bickering. Even Alfred was quiet, tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Arthur was trying to wipe them away, but he had tears in his own eyes, too. There wasn't a dry eye as far as Francis could see, and he hated that too. They shouldn't have to be here at all; they should've been wearing their school uniforms instead of dreary black, ignoring the teacher in diplomacy instead of the priest delivering the memorial, and listening to Gilbert declare his awesomeness and cheer everyone up instead of crying over his loss. The thought called up more tears to race down his cheeks. Nothing would ever be the same, not after this.
Nothing had been the same since Sunday morning, when he and Antonio had been complaining that Gilbert was late to meet them for coffee only to get a call from a hysterical Ludwig to meet him at the hospital immediately, because Gilbert had been in a fatal car accident. No one had been able to believe it; Gilbert had been the one of them most full of life, and even though they all knew that he wasn't quite as confident as he tried to appear, he'd always done his best to live up to what he said he was. As much as many of the students and teachers claimed to find him annoying and insufferable, they'd all turned up at his funeral, and even the ever-smiling Ivan Braginski was sobbing. And he and Gilbert had never gone longer than a weekend without fighting, though no one could ever confirm or deny whether the fights were genuine or pent-up sexual tension.
Francis wanted to scream, wanted to fall apart at the seams, wanted to give up so badly, but he wouldn't. He had to see this through, no matter how sick to his stomach the entire ordeal made him. Ludwig needed Antonio and he to keep it together as Gilbert's best friends; if he broke now it would set off the younger student as well, and Ludwig would hate himself for breaking down in front of so many people. Francis collared the monster of rage and despair and chained him in a hidden corner of his mind, but he couldn't forget it was there.
Antonio was standing next to him hand in hand with his boyfriend, Lovino. For once the younger boy wasn't cursing or denying Antonio, but exchanging mutual comfort with the boy he rarely admitted he cared for. Lovino had been Gilbert's friend, too, having first spoken to him when their brothers started seeing each other, and Lovino didn't have many people close to him, so he felt the loss as keenly as Antonio and Francis, though it was rare for the four of them to hang out in a group. Antonio and Lovino's hands were linked tightly, as if both were afraid to let go and risk losing someone else. There were tears in Lovino's eyes which he refused to let run down his face, and Antonio was crying silently.
On Lovino's other side was his twin Feliciano, his arms wrapped around a stone-faced Ludwig. Francis worried that Ludwig hadn't quite felt Gilbert's loss yet, as he was the only one there who was dry-eyed, but he was sure the same was true for some who were crying as well. He was glad that Feliciano was staying with Ludwig for the next few days until his parents could get a plane home from the vacation they'd been on when they'd gotten the call. He was sure others who knew Ludwig would concur when he said that he didn't want to know that he was alone after a tragedy like this.
On Ludwig's other side was Kiku, a Japanese exchange student who'd hardly spoken two words to Francis and Antonio but had actually been quite close with Gilbert himself. Francis couldn't tell if he was crying, but he was covering his eyes as if he might be and was ashamed of it. Francis stopped paying attention to where everyone was when the sermon ended. Most of the students filed out, but all of those he'd already noted stayed behind. They moved, however, so that they'd be out of earshot of anyone by the newly dug grave, and Kiku was the first one to go up to it. He only stood before it for a few moments, a man of few words as always, but when he followed the path the rest of the students had taken his shoulders were shaking with sobs. Francis noted that Wang Yao, an older student who'd also transferred to the school a few years prior to Kiki, had met up with him where the grass met the parking lot. He'd taken Kiku under his wing when they'd first met, and Francis was glad that the stoic student had someone to look after him since he'd never ask anyone else to.
Feliciano approached next, his quiet sobs echoing throughout the entire cemetery. He didn't say anything, just shook his head sadly as his lips moved without the help of his vocal chords, and when he walked away he waited for his brother and Ludwig near their car. He wouldn't have to wait long for his brother, because Lovino was already advancing as he retreated. He sank to his knees and buried his face in his hands, speaking loud enough for Francis to hear.
"You bastard… Why'd you have to leave, huh? I don't know many people who genuinely care about a wretch like me, so why? Why?" He interrupted himself with a sob. "You're leaving us all alone here… It should've been anyone, anyone else…" He stopped talking but didn't leave, sitting in front of Gilbert's grave- oh how very wrong those words were together- and trembling like a rabbit caught in a hunter's trap. Antonio stepped forward, helping Lovino to his feet and handing him off for Feliciano to take care of while he took his own turn.
Francis turned away, not wanting to remember any of what happened while Antonio said his goodbyes. He could hardly bear to say goodbye to a third of their trio himself, and he didn't think he could stay strong if he witnessed Antonio doing the same. He walked forward himself when he heard footsteps and noted that tears dripped from his friend's eyes. His heart ached for everyone there who'd lost Gilbert, himself included, and in the back of his mind there was just a mantra of why why why why that he knew he'd never get answered.
As he stood alone, the slight breeze threatening to pull his hair from its binding, tears finally turned into sobs he couldn't keep from bursting out. He cried for Gilbert's life as much as his death; there was so much he'd been planning to do. He'd wanted to see the world; he'd wanted to find a mate for Gilbird; he'd wanted to watch Ludwig's kids and spoil the shit out of them. Francis couldn't even think of everything at the moment, but he felt as if his entire being was crying out and there was no one to answer him.
He wanted to say some last words to his friend, but he couldn't get anything out. Instead, he just blew a kiss like they used to do to pretty girls at the mall with a soggy grin and walked away, getting inside his car but not making any move to leave yet in case Ludwig needed him.
He sat crying in silence for some time, but it couldn't have been very long before a bellowing wail cut through the quiet afternoon. He shot up in his seat and saw Feliciano running back towards the gravesite and got out of the car himself. He walked close enough to see what was going on, but when he saw where the sound had come from he stopped. Ludwig was on his knees in front of Gilbert's grave, his hands curled into the soft dirt beneath him and tears streaming down his cheeks. This was a private moment of utter agony and grief and Francis wanted to show his support, but he couldn't bring himself to intrude.
He walked slowly back to the car, trusting Feliciano to take care of Ludwig and listening to uncontrolled sobs following after him. Oh how he wished he could cry, but he'd held the tears back for so long that all they could do now was build up inside him and give him a migraine. He couldn't bring himself to leave, not with the restrained tears blurring his vision. He didn't want to be the man to hurt someone's Gilbert this time around.
A half an hour later, after he watched everyone else leave and sat by himself for some time after that, he pulled out of the parking lot, his eyes clear and his mind cluttered. He knew it would be a long road to recovery for everyone after such a wrenching loss, but they'd walk it together. After all, a lot of terrible things could be said about Gakuen High, but that they could not stand together as one in times of tragedy was not one of them.