Italy was the first to die. I say die rather than pass away, or move on, because there's no time for sugar-coating things now. Italy was the first of us to die at the hands of a thousand humans, and the last of us to realise it.
A bleak autumn had soon come and gone over Italian soil, and a few deep grey cumulus clouds were still on show from the aftermath of a storm. Leaves were scattered about here and there in shades of a deep orange and brown, and the harsh winds blew mercilessly upon a group of people gathered together in front of a stone statue in the shape of a human. That statue in particular, though, was not of an ordinary human, but of a great country, one which had lasted for thousands of years and had changed sides as often as he had fought on them.
Italy stood still, grey as stone and just as cold and unmoving. The remaining Axis, the Allies, Prussia, Hungary, Austria and Romano stood in front of him, staring blankly at his solid form. There was no doubt in anyone's minds that he was dead, that he was never coming back, that somehow in that tiny mind of his Italy must have thought this was a game, but they stood there nonetheless, each nation wondering and muttering to themselves.
It was then that people began to come forward and speak.
Austria and Hungary spoke first, the latter on the verge of tears. The two of them told everyone about Italy as a child, how cheerful he was, his relationship with the Holy Roman Empire and how much he had grown since then. Austria's eyes darkened as he then spoke of what Italy didn't deserve in his apparent death, and he sighed as he moved back towards the others. Austria could feel Prussia's hand on his shoulder, and had to quickly take it off lest he start making a show of himself in front of everyone.
Romano spoke next, and his eyes were red and shadowed. He said his bit about his brother, praised him for the good things he'd done and how he'd kept everyone happy for once, and returned to the crowd with the same blank expression. He didn't want to say much for the same reason as Austria, and so kept quiet as Japan walked up.
Japan was different from the other nations in that he began to smile as he talked, remembering every little moment, every little touch of gratitude, every little surrender, every little white flag. He explained to the people in front of him that Italy was neither with the Axis or Allies in heart; he sided with the sunshine, the happiness of the world. Japan was also different from the other nations in that he began to cry, smiling still as tears cascaded down his face and he made his way back down to the others.
Everything came to a standstill as Japan turned to Germany, tapping him lightly on the shoulder to indicate that it was his turn to talk, if he wanted to. Germany, his eyes red and bloodshot; Germany, his fists clenched; Germany, his head downwards; Germany, his cheeks wet with tears- as everyone gazed at him, Germany looked up and quickly shook his head. Everything had been said that needed to be said. There was nothing else to explain.
Hello everyone and welcome to my first Hetalia fanfic on this site! I hope you enjoy it. :)
This was a very short prologue, I know, but the next chapter is very long and balances it out somehow...?
I hope you enjoy! :D