This story is called Our Town, based on the play by the same name. Our Town by Thornton Wilder, is one of the greatest stories ever told, and I simply couldn't resist turning it into a story about Sweden and Finland. I also couldn't resist using Van Gogh's Starry Night as the cover because, in all honesty, nothing fits better.

This story will be told in three chapters. The first chapter shows a day in the town. That day is May 7th, 1906. The time is just before dawn. All three chapters have been written and edited, and will be uploaded over the week.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Hetalia, nor do I own Our Town by Thornton Wilder, or Van Gogh's Starry Night.

Enjoy~


The little town was called Seagull's Bridge, New Hampshire. The date was May 7th, 1906. It was about dawn. The first few streaks of light were just beginning to peak up over the mountains in the east. The only lights on in town were down at the Depot, where the six o'clock train from Massachusetts was just getting in; and in the Jones' house, where Alfred Jones was getting up to deliver the paper. Of course, out in the countryside, the lights had been on for hours, the farmers having gotten up early to milk the cows.

With the exception of the crickets and the black-capped chickadees, the whole town was quiet. It was always quiet this early in the morning; everybody was still in bed, all the horses still asleep in their stables. The first automobiles wouldn't be coming around for about twelve years or so. Back in these days, everybody got where they wanted to go by buggy or by foot.

Main Street, which was usually loud and bustling with all sorts of people, was now completely empty—with the exception of Dr. Oxenstierna, who had been out all night with a first-time mother who'd just given birth to twins.

Dr. Oxentierna died in 1934. A new hospital up north, in Boston, was named after him. His wife, Mrs. Oxenstierna, died first. She went out to visit her sister in New York and died from tuberculosis.

The Oxenstiernas emigrated from Sweden back 1894 with their four-year-old son Berwald. They lived in a little blue house on Pine Creek Road, four blocks down from Main Street. Dr. Oxenstierna did all his business in the office down on the first floor, while Mrs. Oxenstierna tended to her garden out back.

The little blue house sat right next to a yellow house of the same size. It was owned by the Väinämöinens, who had emigrated from Finland in 1896. Mr. Väinämöinen was a proud craftsman with a soft heart and a clever eye for business, who could neither read nor write in English. He specialized in glass blowing and ran his own shop down on Main Street. Mrs. Väinämöinen worked in the home, cleaning and cooking and tending to her garden along side Mrs. Oxenstierna. The Väinämöinens had only one son of their own, a bright-eyed boy named Tino, but had chosen to adopt Lukas Bondevik and his baby brother Emil, after their mother died in childbirth on the voyage over from Norway.

Our Town

"Good morning, Al," Dr. Oxenstierna greeted the boy, who had just turned up Pine Creek Road.

Alfred Jones turned and smiled at the doctor, the cowlick in his hair standing up as perky as ever. "Mornin', Doc," he said, stifling a yawn.

"How's yer arm feeling?" the doctor asked.

Alfred beamed. "Oh, it's doing great, Doc. Doesn't bother me at all," he said.

"Really? Not at all?" he asked. Alfred shrugged.

"Well, it does twinge a little bit when it's about to rain, but I don't mind," he said. "It's more like a superpower than anything else; I can predict the future. I can tell you when it's gonna rain,"

Dr. Oxenstierna chuckled. "Tell me, Al, 's it going t' rain today?" he asked.

Alfred shook his head. "Nah, not today. Probably tomorrow, though,"

" 's that so?"

"Yessir," Alfred said, rocking back and forth on his heels. "Say, doc? What are you doing out so early? Is somebody sick?"

The doctor shook his head. "No, no, nothing like that. A mother gave birth t' twins out on the Nielson Ranch," he said.

Alfred nodded. "Ah," he said.

"How's yer brother, Al? I haven't seen him around lately, 's he doing alright?" Dr. Oxenstierna asked.

"Mattie? Oh, he's doing great. He's got himself a girlfriend,"

"Does he now? What's her name?"

"Avory," Alfred answered, sounding a little bit jealous. "She's in his homeroom,"

The doctor chuckled. "What about you, Al? 's there anybody out there ye're fond of?"

Alfred blushed and ducked his head, unable to stop himself from thinking about a certain British boy in his Literature class. "Well, yeah… but it doesn't matter though…" he trailed off, not wanting to discuss the subject.

Dr. Oxenstierna nodded, and didn't press further. "What about yer Father? How's he?"

"Ah, my old man's doing great," Alfred smiled.

"Does he need any help down at the printing press? My boy, Berwald's looking for a job, and he'd love t' come down and help out with the paper," the doctor said.

"I'm not sure, Doc. Sorry, I'll have to ask him tonight," he said. He reached down into his bag and handed the doctor a copy of the paper. "Here you go, Doc,"

"Thank you, Al. I'll let you get on yer way. You have a great day," he said.

"You too, Doc!" Alfred called and continued along his route.

Dr. Oxenstierna tucked the paper under his arm and unlocked the front door. "Alfie Jones says it's going t' rain tomorrow!" he called to his wife as he took off his boots.

"Does he now?" Mrs. Oxenstierna asked, turning off the stove. She wiped her hands on her apron and crossed over to her husband. "How did it go?" she asked. "You were out nearly all night,"

"Was fine," Dr. Oxenstierna grunted. "Mrs. Nielson is the proud mother of two healthy baby boys," he said.

"Oh that's wonderful!" she exclaimed, glancing up as Berwald came trudging down the stairs.

"Morning, Ber," the doctor greeted his son. Berwald grunted in response and sat down at the table.

"You look beat, why don't you head on upstairs 'n see if you can't catch a few hours of sleep?" Mrs. Oxenstierna asked her husband.

"Sounds like a good idea," the doctor said. As he made his way up the stairs he called out: "Have a good day at school, Ber!"

"Berwald!" Mrs. Oxenstierna snapped. "How many times do I have t' tell you: no books on the table!"

Berwald ducked his head. "Gotta fin'sh this b'fore school,"

"And why didn't you do it last night?"

Berwald shrugged. "Spent 'll night doin' arithm'tic," he said vaguely. He wasn't lying: arithmetic had taken all night. However, he probably could've had it done in less than an hour if he hadn't spent so much time day-dreaming about a certain violet-eyed Finnish boy.

"Is Mr. Beilschmidt giving you children too much homework?" she asked. "I could call him 'f you like and—"

"No," Berwald cut his mother off. " 's fine. The homew'rk's not a probl'm," he said quickly. And that was the truth. The homework wasn't the problem. The problem was the fact that Tino Vaïnämöinen, AKA the most perfect human being on the planet, lived right next door and sometimes Berwald could see him doing homework from the window in his room. How did anybody expect him to concentrate on his work, knowing that the love of his life was right outside the window working on the same arithmetic problems?

"Berwald, are you listening t' me?" his mother asked, breaking the Swede from his thoughts.

Berwald blinked. "Yes," he answered quickly. The school bell rang out and Berwald shot up like a rocket. He was going to be late if he didn't hurry. He quickly gathered all of his schoolbooks and crammed them into his satchel. "Bye, ma. Love ya," he said as he hurried out the door.

"By Ber! Have a great day!" she called out after him. "Say hello t' Mrs. Køhler for me, 'f you see her!"

Our Town

Berwald did not have a good day at school. He never had a good day at school. He hated school, and everybody in school hated him. They didn't bully him. They didn't beat him up and demand he do their homework or give them his lunch money. No, they simply avoided him. They didn't talk to him, they didn't look at him, they scooted away when he sat next to them. They giggled when he spoke up in class, but when he turned to face them, they would flinch and look away.

The giggling, he could understand. Berwald had always had trouble communicating, ever since he was a child. His thick Swedish accent combined with a speech impediment that he could never quite conquer, made him nearly impossible to understand. It wasn't that he didn't know how to speak. In fact, on paper he was incredibly eloquent. He loved words; he loved to read and write in his free time, and he hoped to become a playwrite after graduating from school. Words, however, did not love him. The more he spoke, the more the others laughed at him. He had hoped that someday he would become completely numb to it, and it would stop hurting. However, that day never came. So instead, he simply decided to stop speaking all together. It was easier that way, he had decided. And it hurt far less.

It was the flinching, however, that Berwald never understood. He couldn't think of anything he had ever done anything to make them afraid of him. So, Berwald concluded, there had to be something wrong with his face. It wasn't his glasses; lots of kids wore glasses and they all had friends. So why didn't he? Maybe he was just ugly.

Then one day, while reading a passage from The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Berwald found himself identifying with Mr. Hyde (perhaps more than he should've) and reached a conclusion: he was some sort of monster. That's why all the other kids avoided him.

That night, he spent hours studying his face in the mirror, trying to find some sort of deformation or abnormality, but came up with nothing. In his mind, he looked totally normal. But then again, maybe he'd just gotten used to it.

And so, Berwald had started using words like "disfigured", "miscreated", and "deformed" to describe himself. He kept his head low and stared at the ground, trying to avoid attracting attention. Hoping to quell the never-ending loneliness that constantly gnawed at his stomach, he severed any emotional ties he had with his fellow classmates. However, no matter how hard he tried, he found that he couldn't stop himself from falling in love with Tino Väinämöinen.

Our Town

Berwald sat in his usual seat in the back of class and listened to Mr. Beilschmidt drone on and on about Geometry or Cicero's Orations or something else of the sort. He did his best to pay attention, but he just couldn't concentrate on anything the German man was saying. He blamed it partly on sleep-deprivation and partly on the Finnish boy sitting two rows in front of him.

Berwald glanced back at the wooden clock hanging on the wall. School would let out in twenty minutes and frankly, he didn't care at all about whatever Mr. Beilschmidt was talking about. Berwald gave up trying to concentrate and rested his head on hands, staring at the back of Tino's head.

Tino suddenly turned around to look at the clock and caught the Swede's eye. On instinct, Berwald looked away, partly because he didn't want to scare the Finn, partly because he didn't want to see the disgusted look that would no doubt cross Tino's features. But when Berwald looked back again, Tino was still staring at him. He narrowed his eyes in confusion. Tino cringed suddenly, and Berwald's heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. He's staring, no doubt, out of horrified fascination. He thought to himself bitterly.

But then, Tino did something that surprised him: he smiled. The way his lips turned up in the perfect curve, the way his big, violet eyes lit up like stars, sent butterflies fluttering through Berwald's chest. He found his lips moving on their own, turning upwards in the tiniest of smiles. It had been a long time since he had smiled so genuinely. Tino's eyes seemed to light up even brighter, and he held the gaze for just a moment more before turning around again and going back to his notes.

Berwald's heart was pounding, his mind racing. He sat in his seat, dumbstruck, for the rest of class.

When school let out, Berwald all but ran out of the schoolhouse. Tino made him feel lighter than air. It made his chest ache. He was so completely head-over heels in love with the small Finn. It hurt him, almost physically, knowing that Tino would never share his feelings. Honestly, he wasn't sure how he was going to survive another year of school knowing Tino was so close, and yet, so far away. He was going to go mad. Maybe he could drop out? No, his father would never let him. Maybe he could run away, catch a train, and ditch town? Yes, that seemed like a reasonable plan. He could start a new life somewhere quaint like Arkansas or New Mexico. He was sure he could have all his things packed by Saturday night. He could catch the eleven o'clock train down at the Depot and—

Someone put a hand on his shoulder.

"There you are!" Tino exclaimed, smiling. "I've been looking for you for everywhere!"

Berwald froze up. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, he could only stare. Tino flinched away from Berwald's gaze. Horrified, the Swede snapped his eyes shut and dropped his head. He wanted to run away, but his legs wouldn't let him.

"I… I, ah, s-sorry. I just wanted to talk to you about something," Tino spoke quickly. "B-but, um, if you're busy I can go away…"

Berwald's head snapped up. "…Ya want t' talk t' me?" he asked, incredulously.

Tino nodded.

"…Why?" he asked.

Tino shifted. "I-I… I, um, I… I wanted t-to know if you wanted to… er… to w-walk home with me?" he asked shuffling his feet nervously.

Berwald's brain had completely stopped functioning. "…Why?"

"W-well… well, because we live right next to each other," Tino said. He smiled, slowly feeling a little more confident. "I, um, I can see you working on homework from my room," he started. "And I know you're really good at arithmetic, and I'm… well, and I'm not. And I was thinking that maybe, sometimes, if I get stuck… you could… you could give me a hint?" Tino asked, hopefully.

Berwald blinked. "A hint?"

"It's not cheating or anything!" Tino said, quickly. "I don't want the whole answer, just maybe, you could sort of push me in the right direction…" Tino said, smiling sheepishly.

Berwald paused, considering this. "Give m' yer books," he said.

Tino jumped. "Wh-wh-what?" he cried.

Berwald cringed inwardly, and rephrased. "Let m' carry 'em fer ya while we walk,"

Tino blushed. "It's alright, you don't have to. I can carry them,"

"But I want t'," Berwald said. " 's th' least I can do,"

Tino smiled and looked away, blushing furiously. "O-oh, alright," he said, passing his books to Berwald. "Then, here. Let me take yours," he suggested, taking Berwald's books with a smile.

Our Town

"What are you so happy about?" Lukas looked up from his books as Tino sat down next to him at the table.

Tino shrugged, still grinning. "Nothing,"

Lukas rolled his eyes. "Stop it. It's unsettling," he said.

"What?" Tino asked. "I'm not allowed to be happy?"

"Not when you smile like that, you're not," Lukas snapped.

"Big brother! Big brother!" Seven-year-old Emil called out as he half waddled, half ran into the kitchen.

Emil was a bright, shy boy with silver hair and violet eyes, and two older brothers who loved him more than anything else in the entire world. He died when he was twelve years old, drowning in the river behind their house after a flashflood.

"Yes, Emil?" Lukas asked, hoisting the boy into his lap.

Emil wrapped his small, slender arms around his older brother's neck and buried his face in the crook of his shoulder.

Lukas smiled gently. "Did you just get home?" he asked. Emil nodded. "Did you have fun at Kaoru's house?"

Again, Emil nodded. He turned to Tino, and asked: "Did you propose to the scary Swedish boy today?"

Tino nearly spat out the milk he had been drinking and rushed to the sink, trying not to choke.

Lukas raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you were so happy about?" he asked.

"No! Nope! I don't know what he's talking about!" Tino said, quickly.

Emil cocked his head. "The scary Swedish boy who lives next door and always smells like meatballs," he clarified.

"Berwald Oxenstierna?" Lukas asked and Emil nodded. "Did he say yes?"

"I didn't propose, Norge!" Tino exclaimed. Lukas rolled his eyes at the use of his silly pet name. "I just asked if he wanted to do homework with me, that's all,"

Lukas' lips quirked upwards in a smile. "What's your dress size, Tino?" he asked. "I think Mr. Bonnefoy's still got some wedding dresses in stock,"

"I'm not getting married!" Tino snapped, blushing furiously. "And even if I was, I wouldn't be the wife!"

Lukas shrugged. "Yeah… whatever you say, Tino,"

There was a knock at the door. "I'll get it!" Tino announced, eager to end the conversation. He rushed to the door and was surprised to find Arthur Kirkland standing at his doorstep, carrying a large Geometry textbook.

"Is Lukas home?" he asked.

Tino nodded. "Norge! It's for you!" he called. The aforementioned Norwegian poked his head around the corner.

"You left your textbook in class," Arthur said simply. Tino fled upstairs, and Lukas stepped forward to take the book.

"Thanks," he said. "I was looking for this,"

Arthur shrugged. "No problem," Instead of leaving, however, he just stood there, staring sheepishly at the ground.

"Is there something else you need?" Lukas asked, frowning.

Arthur shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Yes, actually, there is," he said. He cleared his throat. "You seem to know a lot about love," he started. "What, with you and Mathias…"

Lukas raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Yes?"

"Well… I, um, I was…" Arthur trailed off, unable to find the words he was looking for. He sighed. "How do you tell someone that you love them?" he asked, bluntly.

Lukas smirked. "Is this about that stupid Jones kid?"

"He's got a name, you git!" Arthur snapped.

"I'll take that as a yes,"

Arthur dropped his head. "I apologize. I shouldn't have—"

"No, it's fine," Lukas said with a shrug. "My advice? Just tell him,"

"But how do I—" Arthur started.

Lukas cut him off. "Just say it," he reiterated.

Arthur bit his lip and nodded. "Thank you," he said, sounding a little unsure. Lukas shrugged again and Arthur turned away, heading off down the street.

Arthur Kirkland was a very bright boy. He graduated from high school at the top of his class. He received a full ride scholarship to Massachusetts Institute of Technology and graduated at the top of his class there, too. He was going to become a great engineer, but then war broke out in France and he died out there, all that education for nothing.

Our Town

It was nearly seven o'clock in the afternoon. The sun overhead was just starting to dip behind the horizon, the moon coming out to take its place. Crickets hidden in the foliage started to sing. Down in the congregational church, choir practice had just begun, hymns gently drifting through the air. The children were all at home doing their schoolwork. Time was running down like a tired clock.

Berwald Oxenstierna was hard at work, focusing on his homework. His window was open wide, just in case Tino need help and decided to call out to him.

Suddenly, a voice came hissing through the window. "Psst! Berwald!"

Berwald's head snapped up. There was Tino, leaning half way out of the window. Tino smiled and waved. Berwald waved back.

"Moon's bright t'night," he said awkwardly, pointing outside.

Tino nodded and looked up at the sky. "It's so wonderful tonight," he agreed. "Hmm…" he sighed. "You can smell Mrs. Gibbs' heliotropes from here,"

Berwald inhale and nodded.

"And choir practice… Can you here it? They're singing my favorite hymn," Tino said, smiling.

Berwald closed his eyes and listened as the melody settling in the air. Blest be the tie that binds…

"Listen… I hate to bother you, but I'm a little bit stuck on the eighth problem. Can you help me?" Tino asked.

Berwald nodded. " 'f course," he said. He glanced down at the paper. " 's in yards," he said.

Tino screwed up his face in utter confusion. "What? How on earth are you getting yards?"

"S'rry. Meant square yards," Berwald clarified.

"… … … Oh," Tino said, still hopelessly lost.

"…square yards 'f wallpap'r," Berwald added, hoping that might help.

"Wallpaper?!" Tino cried. He stared at his paper for a long, long time. "…Oh, I see," he lied, not wanting the Swede to think he was dumb.

"Glad I could help," Berwald grunted.

Tino looked out at the sky again and sighed contently. "The moon really is wonderful tonight,"

"Hn," Berwald agreed.

"I guess I'd better get back to work," Tino said. "Thank you, Berwald!"

"G'bye," Berwald waved, his heart fluttering.

Our Town

"Have you been waiting for me long, dear?" Mrs. Oxenstierna asked as she walked up the porch steps.
"Long enough," Dr. Oxenstierna grunted. "Mr. Edelstein kept you all late tonight,"

" 't isn't any later than usual," Mrs. Oxenstierna scoffed.

Dr. Oxenstierna chuckled and wrapped his arms around his wife. "Wouldn't be nearly s' late if you all didn't stop at the corner t' gossip like a bunch of hens,"

"Oh, Mårten. We were just talking, there's no harm in it," Mrs. Oxenstierna chided.

"So what's the latest gossip for today?" the doctor asked.

Mrs. Oxenstierna smiled. "Ludwig and Feliciano are adopting a baby girl," she said.

"Are they now? That's wonderful!"

"They're going t' call her Cecilia,"

"What a beautiful name. I'm sure they'll make wonderful parents,"

"Hm," Mrs. Oxenstierna hummed. "You know, Mårten, I'm worried about you. The stress of yer job is getting t' you. I can see it in the bags under yer eyes, dear. What you need is a good rest,"

"I've got Saturday off. I can—" the doctor started, but his wife cut him off.

"That's not what I mean. Listen, you know that old table that's been sitting up in our attic gathering dust? Well, Mrs. Soames came over the other day for coffee and according t' her, that old thing 's worth nearly three hundred and fifty dollars!"

"Three hundred and fifty? Are you sure?" Dr. Oxenstierna asked incredulously.

Mrs. Oxenstierna nodded. "I didn't believe her 't first, so I brought in a consultant and he agreed! He said he would buy it off me right then and there. I turned him down, but do you know what I'm going t' do, Mårten? I'm going t' call him back and sell the thing and use th' money on a much need vacation t' Europe. Just the two of us,"

"Europe? What's wrong with here?" Dr. Oxenstierna asked. "Honestly, Ellinor, towns in Europe are no different than towns here,"

"It's been m' life long dream t' see Spain, and you know 't," Mrs. Oxenstierna crossed her arms.

Dr. Oxenstierna shook his head. "I don't see what's s' special about Spain. Life over there isn't any different than our life here," he said. "Every night those people come home fr'm work, and they sit down t' dinner, and th' smoke goes up th' chimney, same as here,"

Mrs. Oxenstierna rolled her eyes. "You're impossible. But we're going on that vacation whether you like 't or not. Just you wait and see, dear,"

Dr. Oxenstierna smiled and kissed his wife. "Come inside, it's getting cold,"

Mrs. Oxenstierna nodded and followed her husband inside. She paused at the door, thinking. "You know, Mårten, Mrs. Webb locks her front door every night. All those people up in that part 'f town do,"

Dr. Oxenstierna sighed. "That's the problem with them. They're all starting t' act like those folks up in the big cities," He shook his head and chuckled. "They don't have anything anybody would want t' steal, 'n everybody knows it,"

Our Town

"Hello, Emil. What are you doing here?" Tino asked.

"I wanna see the moon and I can't see it from my room," Emil said.

"Alright then, c'mere," Tino picked the child up and set him down on the windowsill.

"Tino, why's the moon so bright?" Emil asked.

"To teach the stars how to shine," Tino answered.

Emil nodded. "Tino, why do the stars shine?"

"So that we don't feel alone in the dark, Emil," Tino said with a smile.

"Oh, okay," Emil frowned suddenly. "Tino, what if the moon's getting nearer and nearer and one day it crashes into the earth with a big 'splosion?"

Tino laughed. "The moon's not going to crash into the earth, Emil,"

"Yeah, but what if it does?"

"Then Lukas and I will stop it,"

Emil nodded, accepting the answer. "Did you ever hear about that funny letter Ms. Héderváry got? I hear momma telling papa about it,"

"No, I didn't. What did it say?"

"She got it from her pastor when she got sick a couple of weeks ago. On the envelope it said 'Elizabeta Héderváry, Walnut Acre Street, Seagull's Bridge, Beet County, New Hampshire, the United States of America',"

Tino frowned. "So?" he asked.

"No, but there's more!" Emil said. "'The United States of America, the Continent of North America, the Earth, the Solar System, the Universe, the Mind of God',"

"Wow," Tino breathed. "It said all that?"

"Yup!"

Tino shook his head. "What do you know,"

"And the postman brought it all the same!" Emil exclaimed.

"Well, what do you know,"