100.

"My name is Berwald and I keep waking up at different times in my life."

The woman across the desk looked up to give me a long, quizzical glance. She did not know whether to continue asking questions or to write me off as clinically insane, whatever that meant. She adjusted her glasses and sighed.

I watched her move, hearing the clock in the room echo and echo and echo, chopping off bits of time with a fine blade. I tapped my finger against the edge of the cushioned seat. The woman drew her hair back in a bun, causing her pink cardigan to rise with her chest. I felt tired and bewildered.

Where am I?

I looked around the therapist's office, seeing various diagrams line the walls and two parallel clocks. I ran my hand through my hair, finding that it had thinned. What was the last thing I remembered…?

Something about a cup of coffee

I think.

I waited for her to continue. She looked at the paper before her. Maybe she decided I was worth her while. She cleared her throat with two soft grunts.

"When do you feel these moments of 'waking-up'?"

After some thought, I said; "There are some triggers. Sleeping, for instance, and something else I can't remember right now."

She nodded, tapping her red pen along her lips, which were pink too. What a shame, she had a nice, round face that didn't need anything else to exploit its youth. A mirror leaned against a stack of books. I caught my reflection in it, seeing a man much older than I remembered. Long lines sagged from the corners of my nose when I frowned. I relaxed my expression, seeing the age in my eyes and the complete fatigue lining every breath I took.

I looked over at the woman and found that she was no longer there. Instead a lanky, spidery woman with wispy hair admonished me.

Right, reflections were a trigger to.

I looked at my primary school principal, feeling guilty. I stared at the floor. My backpack hung over one of my shoulders. The principal stared at me. I continued to stare at the floor. The clocks echoed. The world spun. Something was missing.

"Berwald, are you listening?"

I nodded shyly.

"Look, as a student coming from across the seas, I know it can be difficult. But you cannot continue scaring the students like this."

"I can't help it, ma'am." I said. My tongue felt weighted down with my accent.

"I know. You are a good boy and a smart one too."

She reached over the desk and plucked a mint from the ceramic green bowl at the end of her desk. She rolled it between her fingers and stuck it out to me. I took it. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Go on, now."

I stood, leaving the room.

Let's see.

I have a scab on my knee. I should remember that.

What else?

When I entered the school yard again a student rushed up to me, his nearly white head bobbing below everyone else's. He went up to me and asked what had happened in a soft voice. His smile was wide and his eyes gentle. I didn't offer a smile. I shrugged, saying I had no idea. He frowned. Tino, that's his name.

Something missing.

The clocks echoed.

Time was lost.

Still something missing…

Tino patted my shoulder. "Well, at least you weren't punished or anything."

"Yeah, that's true." I said more so to the clear blue sky overhead than to him. We went to our other friends. I went up to the smallest of the bunch, a boy from Iceland who was two years younger than us and the little brother of a boy named Lukas. He looked at me with cold eyes hiding between a mop of grayish hair. He sat on the bench, clutching a book to his chest. He could barely read English, but he was trying.

"Think they'll call one of us next?" The big one named Matthias said, dribbling a basketball he was practicing with. He wanted to fit in with the other boys there. I didn't blame him. Then again, I barely fit in with the normal flow of time.

Tino shrugged. "I hope not."

"Better not," Lukas said. He was like the mother of the bunch and would continue to be so. He was sound and cool headed. He scratched the side of his nose, looking at his brother Emil. Emil continued to look at me, his lips pursed. He would have a deep voice. I didn't say any of this. I didn't even know I thought it.

We played around until we were called back to class. Matthias threw the ball unsuccessfully into the bin. It bounced off the metal rings and rolled into the grass and towards the parking lot. He hissed in displeasure and bounded after it. I watched his thick shoulders move under his red shirt.

One day he would betray me and I would hate him.

One day the buoyant, loud, and obsessive Matthias would inflict such a stinging wound on me that I would not be able to even trust him with a minute of my life. Yet, at the present, we were a tightly knitted group of friends under a nice autumn sky going to school. We were connected by our ancestry. Tino was Finnish and as beautiful as they come. I could easily fall in love with him.

Tino picked up his small beige back pack and held it close, walking off to class. He wore a light blue shirt and black pants. Lukas and Emil trailed after us. As we moved back into the building, surrounded by a multitude of sweaty, whining students, I cast my eyes down at Emil. What would Emil do? I could not recall. The ancient stones were cracking and losing their memory. Emil flicked his eyes, the color of the evening sky just before night time, in my direction. I could see my reflection in them.

Oh shit.

I do not own Hetalia

and thus the long awaited SuFin story appears!

I have one hundred chapters to tell you this story, starting now.

Inspired by the movies Shuffle and Momento