Something a little different. Inspired by the song Iridescent by Linkin Park (I highly suggest you listen to it while reading, it's on youtube.) Possible character death and implied past character death.
I do not own Hetalia.
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Romano sat on the cliff by his seaside home, knees curled to his chest. Tears streamed down his face as choked sobs escaped his mouth. The breeze whipped his face like a million tiny bee stings, but he didn't care. After all, what did anything matter without his brother? He was only half a country, and a weak one at that. His brother always had all the talents, all the love…he could paint, cook, and was more likeable than Romano could ever be. And now, he was gone- taken by war when a white flag was just not enough to hold back the enemy's hand. Romano was left as the sole representative of the country of Italy, Grandpa Rome's only grandson. He was afraid of his own shadow, a completely unfit country. How could he protect his people when he couldn't even protect his own damn brother? What had he to look forward to? Did he even have a future?
He stood up on wobbly legs and looked over the edge of the cliff. Foamy blue waters crashed beneath, beckoning to him. He took a step closer, almost letting the wind carry him away. He could escape his troubles. Escape the unbearable sorrow that plagued him and tore his mind to pieces with its cruel whispers in the night. End it.
He took yet another step. He couldn't handle a country on his own, he was far too stupid. He had no culture, no military to speak of, and no potato bastard to make up for his weakness. No one to chase his demons away, no one to comfort him when it was all too much. He could no longer dial his brother simply to hear his annoying but comforting voice as he talked about mindless things. He wished for release.
He was standing at the edge now, a mere few centimeters between him and the open air and sea. Was this all over his brother? No, not quite. He had felt this way for quite some time now, but had masked it with anger and moodiness. No one else knew that he awoke in the middle of the night sweating and screaming from endless nightmares. No one saw his depression, only the oh-so-convincing mask. Not even his brother. He almost hoped someone would see through it and come kick down the walls he had built around himself. See the scars on his palms from where his nails cut in from constant fist clenching, smell the blood in his mouth from the times he had bitten his tongue to keep from showing these emotions in public. But his brother…his brother was his life support. He could always count on Feliciano's stupid, clueless smile to cheer him up, or give him someone to care for and receive care from. But that was no longer possible. Feliciano was gone forever. There was nothing left for him here. Would he have the strength to jump, or would he fail at that too?
Salty tears stung Romano's eyes as he began to take that final step. This was inevitable. He knew he would not fail on this end. His left foot was in the air, right about to follow. This was it.
There's an alternate ending to this coming out very soon, so if you liked this, check for that. It's much less depressing.