Hi people, Xiang here. This is my second Hetalia fanfic, really, but I deleted my other one.

This fanfic is based off the Narcisse Noir video that I found on YouTube, except that it is told in modern time. This is told in Alfred's point of view.

I do not own Hetalia or the video that this fanfic this is based off of. I wish I did, though. It would be nice.

I remember when I first met him. It was a time that I hero-worshipped my older brother, Arthur. They had come to our house to work on a research project together.

He had walked into our house, an angel in our mist. His pale cheeks, softly tinged with pink, his ebony hair, short, but flowing with every move, and his dark eyes, eyes that were always filled with happiness. I remember when he introduced himself to me, his name being Kiku. Kiku… the name was so foreign, but felt so familiar rolling off my tongue.

As we were about to shake hands, Arthur had cleared his throat and said, "Come, Kiku. We do have a project to work on."

Kiku had turned away, handshake forgotten, and responded with a delighted "Hai!" and followed Arthur up the stairs. Before climbing up the final steps, Arthur locked eyes with me, a satisfied smirk on his face.

It was then that I had fallen in love for the first time. It was then that my feelings for my brother twisted into envy and hate.

Even after the research project was over, Kiku frequently visited our house, so often that my home wouldn't feel the same without him. I had noticed that he loved our garden, gazing at the blossoms that seemed to bloom just for him.

On one of the rare occasions that Kiku wasn't with Arthur, I approached him, offering him one of the roses from our garden. He accepted it, to my delight. "Thank you," he had said, his soft voice echoing in my ears. I had looked up into his eyes and somehow formed the words "My pleasure" from my embarrassed mouth.

But as I looked into his eyes, the eyes that I had fallen in love in, I saw that he looked at me differently than how he looked at my brother. He saw me as a child, as "Arthur's little brother". How I longed for him to look at me as an equal. How I longed for those eyes to look at me like my eyes looked at him.

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, and Kiku still came over. He had grown closer to Arthur, so close that it wasn't certain whether they were "just friends" or not.

One day, Kiku and Arthur had retreated into Arthur's room, and stayed inside for quite a while. The hours passed, and eventually my mother told me, "Alfred, why don't you check on Kiku and Arthur? It's getting late, and Kiku's parents may be worried."

I obeyed, wanting nothing more than to see Kiku, the angel that my heart had fallen for. But when I reached my brother's room and opened the door just a crack and my eyes widened in realization.

Kiku was wrapped in my brother's arms, whose hand was caressing those pale cheeks that I yearned to touch, even if just for a moment. Though it was just a whisper, I could recognize Kiku's soft voice saying my brother's name. Kiku's voice was filled with emotion: with uncertainty, but with trust and affection – with love. Their lips met, and their embrace slowly became more intimate.

I tore my eyes away from the sight, trying to stop the tears from flowing down my cheeks. I ran down the stairs – there was no stopping the tears anymore – and flung myself into my own room. My heart was torn apart into a million pieces, never to be sewn back into one.

My mother politely knocked on my door. "What did they say, Alfred?" she asked.

"Ki… Kiku will probably be staying the night," I managed to say, but right after forcing the words out, the tears came back and I buried my head in my pillow to prevent my mother from hearing my sobs.

I could hear my mother's steps fading away, and I lay there, in my dark, lonely room, with only the broken shards that used to make up my heart to comfort me.

Again, days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. Arthur had decided to move out of the house, saying that he was "independent enough to live on his own." My mother had accepted it, giving Arthur his share of the inheritance, and he left.

After that, I never saw Kiku again. With his disappearance, the atmosphere within my house became dark and somewhat sorrowful. There was no light to guide me through the dark that seemed to last forever.

Weeks turned into months and months turned into years. I had graduated from high school and gone to a good university, where I majored in history. Never did I fall in love again, for my heart was still attempting to piece itself back together.

Academically, I was very successful. However, my emotions were equivalent to a bottomless pit… I seemed to be filled with despair, saddened all the time, and there was no end to the pit coming anytime soon.

Three years had passed since I had graduated from college, and Arthur had been away for more than seven. He never contacted me or my mother, not even a simple call to clarify that he was doing well.

One rainy Monday, my mother received a letter. It was a letter from Arthur, the only one we had ever gotten. Her now-frail hands shaking, she opened the envelope, unfolded the letter, and began to read. The contents of the letter caused her hands to shake even more than before, so much that she dropped it and burst into tears.

I silently picked up the letter and read:

To the relatives of Arthur Kirkland and Kiku Honda-

It is our deepest regrets to inform you that Mr. Kirkland and Mr. Honda were found dead two days ago. Their funeral will be held this coming Saturday. Please feel free to attend, as well as inform those who were close to Mr. Kirkland and Mr. Honda of their departure.

Regards,

The letter was signed by people that I didn't know, probably people who ran the State. The location for the funeral was at the lake outside of town. When I was younger, before I had met Kiku, I used to play there with Arthur. Childhood memories were to be covered with new memories of sorrow and heartbreak.

Rumor spread quickly of Arthur and Kiku's death. Those who were close to them during the seven years that Arthur had stopped contacting us said that "They committed suicide, in that lake outside of town." Some said that it was retribution for love that went against God - that their souls couldn't stand that much sinning and their common sense failed them, causing them to kill themselves. I, however, when asked about these events, would just sigh and reply "I don't know."

My emotions were affecting how I worked as well. I was supposed to be analyzing a historical document from I-don't-know-where and I-don't-know-when, but I was glazing over, not able to concentrate. My boss noticed this and approached me.

"Alfred, take a day off today," he said. My eyes sprang open and I looked at him in astonishment. He sighed. "This time, out of all times, must be hard for you. Go and take a day off. Come back when you've gotten out of that daze of yours." He patted my back sympathetically and went away. I packed up my things hastily, said good-bye to my coworkers, and left my office.

I blindly walked to places, feeling dazed and lost. I finally found myself at that lake, gazing down at the water. My reflection gazed back at me. I noticed that I looked different now. My cheeks were sunken now, and my eyes were dulled.

This was the place… the words rang in my head. This is the place where Kiku died. Kiku… my angel… is gone forever. I fell to my knees, as if my legs couldn't hold me up anymore. I couldn't cry; I was long dried of tears. I could only stare at my reflection, and it could only stare back at me.

After a few minutes of lament, I shakily rose to my feet. I noticed a flower blooming next to the lake. I instantly recognized it as a narcissus.

A narcissus… the story of the narcissus flitted into my mind. It was a story of selfishness and unrequited love. I laughed harshly at the irony of the moment… Arthur and Kiku, my brother and my angel, had faded into nothing, lost in their own world. I, on the other hand, was left behind, with the real world where happiness didn't exist.

I didn't attend Arthur and Kiku's funeral, feigning illness to fool my mother. As soon as she left the house, I stumbled out of my room, aiming for the garden that Kiku had loved.

I looked at the flowers. They had never bloomed since Kiku stopped visiting, but they were blooming now, as if saying a final farewell.

I looked at the roses in particular, the bush from which I had picked one of the roses to give to Kiku. I reached out for one, but the moment that the blossom was picked, my feet failed me once more. The bottomless pit that my feelings were falling through had finally found a bottom. But there was no chance to try to climb up. With the rose in my hand, I closed my eyes one final time.

Hope you liked it this fanfic. Reviews sound nice, so please review!

Xiang Li