I do not own Hetalia, or any of its characters.
Poland had a premonition that morning. Disaster. Imminent disaster. By the time he tried to alert his boss, he was already gone.
He tried to blot out the feelings, by going to see Lithuania. However, his heart felt heavy, and he could not concentrate.
A sudden searing pain in his heart. Poland screamed and crumpled to the ground. He screamed to try and dull the pain, but the pain would not stop. It was a knife twisting in his heart. Lithuania stopped in surprise, and turned to Poland, fearful. He tried to speak, to comfort Poland, but his words were drowned out by Poland's screaming.
Poland was in too much pain to cry. The pain had struck suddenly, as if he had been stabbed through the heart. As suddenly as it had started, Poland's screaming stopped - as did his movement. Lithuania knelt down next to Poland's broken figure, picked him up, held him, sobbing silently.
Nations did not die. Poland knew that. However, as he lay there, unable to move, unable to speak, barely able to breathe, there was nothing else he wanted more in the world.
Ninety-six souls had been destroyed in the disaster. Now, it was ninety-seven.
In memory of the Polish president, Lech Kaczynski, and the members of the Polish government who died aboard that flight, RIP.