It was a calm, chilly day in Potsdam, Germany. A lone blond man carrying a single cornflower walks towards a seemingly abandoned and ancient gravesite. He was donned in office attire, complete with a light brown jacket and a maple colored tie.

Canada, or Matthew Williams, slowly made his way to his friend's plot.

Once he reached his destination, he knelt down. His fingers brushed over the cursive engraving on the plaque: Der große Preußen. Hier ruht Gilbert Beilschmidt.

"Hi." Matthew's soft spoken voice broke the silence. "I'm sorry I haven't visited in a while. I'm glad I had some time to visit you after the World Meeting today, which surprisingly was more productive than usual, probably because your brother was in charge." He rambled on.

"I miss you so much, Gil. It's hard living each day without you. Remember that time I handed you maple syrup and you thought it was a prank?" The fond memory caused him to chuckle. "In retrospect, I guess I shouldn't have given it to you on April Fools' Day. I felt so special when you mentioned me on your blog. And you actually remembered me. You would visit all of the time just to eat more of my syrup and pancakes. It made me happy, being able to share my favorite food with you. I seriously believed you only liked my food, not me." Canada shook his head. He truly thought the Prussian only visited for his cooking.

"But then, you came by for a different reason, to hang out with me. I couldn't believe someone as incredible as you would want to spend time with me, besides devouring my pancakes.

"I treasure all the times we had: watching movie marathons, building fortresses, throwing snowball fights, camping, trying new restaurants, teaching you how to ice skate, you reading to me your old diaries, falling in love." Canada smiled and continued, "moving in together despite our families being against it, arguing over silly things and making up, cooking meals, having spontaneous food fights, cleaning the mess afterwards, sleeping together every night . . ." His eyes began to water.

"Even after so many years, it's difficult for me to fall asleep without you by my side, embracing me," he confessed. "I miss your hugs, your kisses, your touch, your obnoxious and wonderful voice." Tears escaped him and fell onto the ground. His voice was beginning to crack as he spoke. "I miss your dorkiness, the funny conversations you would have with Gilbird, the way you would secretly clean and I would catch you, the blush on your cheeks when you noticed adorable things and then cough to cover up any squeals you let out, your weird obsession with yellow peeps during Easter and how we had to save them from kids eating them every year," he rushed through.

He took a deep breath and wiped away any remaining tears with his sleeve.

"I miss you so much it hurts. I don't know how much more my heart can take. I love you, Gil. My Gil."

Matthew took a small pause. With a pensive look on his face, he looked up at the sky, not a cloud in sight. A pair of birds flew by.

"Where do countries go after they disappear," he asked himself. "What's it like, wherever you are? Are you okay? What are you up to these days? I can't help but imagine you as a ghost or a spirit floating around playing pranks," he laughed softly. "I need to believe that you are still here, or else I don't know what I would do. Can you hear me, Gil? I hope you can."

He gathered his thoughts once more.

"Alfred, Francis, and occasionally Arthur visit to check up on me. Sometimes Romano, Cuba, Netherlands, Ukraine, and Russia call or send gifts. It was because of you that other countries began to notice me more often. It never bothered me in the first place, but I'm glad I was able to make new friends. I can't help but feel lonely though." His free hand unconsciously reached for the black iron cross hidden under his collared shirt. Gilbert had insisted he keep it.

Matthew noticed he had spent his whole time there, again. He kissed the flower and placed it on the plaque. "I should get going. I have to catch a plane back to Canada in a few hours." He begrudgingly stood up. "See you later, Gil. I promise to visit the next time I have a break from work."

As he was about take his first step, a breeze swept through and blew away the flower. Matthew gasped and chased after it. The cornflower was gratefully stopped by a stranger's shoe. When Canada looked up, he realized it was Germany, or Ludwig Beilschmidt, the Prussian's younger brother. He was also still in his work clothes he wore to the meeting they had earlier. Ludwig picked up the flower and handed it back to Matthew. He thanked him.

No words were exchanged as the two walked to Gilbert's grave. Matthew once again placed the flower on it, adding a rock on top to prevent it from flying.

"I'm sorry to have interrupted your time with him," Ludwig stated.

Matthew shook his head. "No, you didn't. I was just about to leave when the wind decided to play tag."

"Ah, I see."

The silence grew between them. Despite Prussia and Canada's long friendship, Matthew and Ludwig seldom spoke to each other.

"I wonder . . ." Matthew mused out loud.

"What?"

". . . if that was Gil's doing, having me chase the flower."

Ludwig shrugged. "It might have been. I would not be surprised if my bruder did that," he reassured him.

Canada nodded. They both smiled.

The German spoke again. "You know, Gilbert truly loved you. Before he moved out, he always spoke about you nonstop. Birdie this and Birdie that. It was annoying, but endearing I suppose. I had never seen him so smitten with someone before. You were his everything."

Matthew looked down. He tried not to cry again. He knew his eyes were puffy from before, and he didn't want to make them worse. "He was my everything, too," he murmured.

The wind picked up, gently tousling Canada's honey blond locks. To him, it felt like a caress, the way Gilbert would. Maybe he really was here.

"Thank you for that, Ludwig. I really have to get going now or else I'll miss my flight. I'll see you at the next World Meeting." Matthew waved goodbye and ran towards the exit.

Germany was left standing at the gravesite, his eyes following the Canadian until he was out of sight.


A/N: Thank you for reading. I decided to write this in one sitting after listening to Lee Min Ho's "My Everything." (It's from Boys Over Flowers, a Korean TV Series. Go check out his song on Youtube.) I hope it turned out well. I'll be honest. I teared up a bit while writing it. Please leave a review. They are greatly appreciated.

I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers, nor any of its characters. All rights go to Hidezkazu Himaruya.