WORD COUNT: 950

DISCLAIMER: Hetalia is not mine :U

Blame The Stars That His Dreams Don't Come True (Blame the Stars, for short) will be a series of one shots using various characters from various mangas/animes, movies and TV shows that I think fit the theme. Wishing on a star and the wish not coming true, for the most part. It might be interpreted differently for certain characters but I haven't really decided yet.

Though I have decided that each piece will have it's own slot, just to make it easier for each chapter to be found separately in its own section for fics. No worries about reading them out of order though, since none of them have anything in common besides the theme.

Hope you enjoy!

Note: Using country names for first mention then human names for everything after, except Holy Roman since he doesn't have a name…

Also - still in need of a beta


When he was just a young nation living with Holy Roman Empire and Austria and Hungary, wearing little maid outfits and being called Chibitalia, Feliciano had heard a story. Being the kind woman she was, Hungary always told him fairy tales to help him fall asleep. Princess and knights saving damsels in distress and scary sorcerers astride fire breathing dragons. It was all so romantic! What she seemed to stress though at the end of every tale was that dreams came true. After a story or lullaby when the female nation was tucking him in she'd brush aside his bangs, lay a kiss on his forehead and tell him 'Remember if you wish on the stars your dream will come true.'

A few years later he asked why none of his dreams came true when he wished on the starry night sky and Elizaveta had chuckled as she washed the dishes and told him just why. That was when he learned it had to be the very first star in the sky for the wish to come true. The day after that HRE left for the war with a chaste first kiss and a promise he would return soon.

Grandpa had said the same thing though.

That night Chibitalia was at the window, watching the sky turn dark, scanning for the very first star with wide eyes. It would be the first of thousands of millions of nights where he did such a thing. Spotting the ball of gas twinkle into existence he clasped his hands together and bowed his head as if to pray.

"Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might get the wish I wish tonight..." Brown eyes opened and looked up, starring hard at the star. "I wish Holy Roman will come back soon, pretty please." You should always be polite after all and he figured wishes on starts wasn't an exception. The star twinkled as if to reply and with a happy giggle he'd snuggled back under the covers and drifted to sleep.

It became his nightly ritual. Finish all of his assigned chores after diner, bathe, bid the others goodnight and get ready for bed only to wait by the window for the first star to show. His wish was the same for nights and nights on end. Let Holy Roman come home, safe and sound and soon.

Years passed, the same wish made each night. There was the occasional visit from his brother Romano and his boss but other than that the three lived in the large house undisturbed. As the years dragged on Italy started to grow, like any nation should eventually do, but not into the young lady he was expected to be. Roderich was more than shocked and flustered when the baby fat slimmed away and his voice started to change. The only real difference was he was forced to wear the clothes of his true gender and Roderich had started trying to teach him to be a gentleman. He was now a young man, still waiting for his love, still sneaking off to paint, still a maid and still wishing.

When they got the news that the young nation with big dreams had been killed in battle by France, Feliciano was in shock. Then again maybe he wasn't have supposed to have heard, hiding behind the corner like he was as Francis talked to Roderich and Elizaveta. Bit that didn't change the fact that Holy Roman couldn't be dead because he'd promised to come back! And Feliciano wished on the stars! It had to be a joke, a very cruel mean joke, and they would all laugh at him once he came around the corner.

No one was laughing or jeering when he stepped out though, asking where his love was in a wavering voice and eyes full of tears. The grim look on Francis' face wasn't full of tears nor were his lips tilted in that smirk he knew so well when the French Nation was lying. In fact, it looked like he barely regretted killing the small blond that they all knew was enamored with North Italy, and vice versa.

Feliciano swore he could have felt his small heart breaking into a million pieces, frozen in place as fat tears rolled down cherubic cheeks, whispering 'No' over and over again. Before any of them could even think to reach for the boy who they just noticed, his broom clattered to the floor and he fled. Not even the yells of a worried Elizaveta, the sharp demands of Roderich or the rough shouts of a war-tired Francis could stop him from fleeing down the twisted halls to his room.

It was the last anyone saw of him for days.

Red stained his eyes and cheeks and nose with an endless stream of tears. Stars were supposed to make your wishes come true but the exact opposite had happened. Instead of his love coming home the boy had been killed and left on the field of battle with nothing but painful memories to leave and territories to be divided up amongst the victors. That's all Holy Roman was now, bits of territory divided as spoils of war. His love wasn't coming back to him and Feliciano cried harder.

He cursed the stars when they came out each night thereafter, shaking his tiny fists and screaming at them while demanding answers. Eventually, he gave up. The stars wouldn't answer, they wouldn't feel sorry for him and they couldn't bring Holy Roman back. No one else could be a comfort to the locked door and broken child inside but his tear stained pillow.