Hey Guys!

Hooray! New chapter!

I recommend voting in the 2016 Hetalia Awards, mostly so I have more fanfiction to add to my already very lengthy list. Heh... It isn't even as long as the list of anime I need to watch. There's about 40 on there, and I just ignore them completely, much like my bookshelf.

This chapter may seem a little odd, and it is abnormally short, but it is VERY important. It's also the first (sort of) angst chapter! Hooray! There will be more of this in the future, so I'm just giving you a taste of the heartrenching stuff you are going to feel.

Enjoy!


Chapter 9

It was raining outside. Pouring down in not-quite-a-thunderstorm, filling the air with sound of drip-drops hitting the pavement. Trees and grass and other greenery being pounded by the torrent, the raindrops wetting the ground and giving that very lovely smell, petrichor if you wished to sound educated. Pedestrians with bright umbrellas wandering down the worn cobblestone walkways, or perhaps hurrying in a frenzy to arrive at whatever meeting or gathering or birthday party they had forgotten they had at so early in the gloomy morning. Clouds overhead, threatening to unleash claps of thunder and streaks of bright, bordering, bordering, bordering, on a lightning-storm.

It was humbling, seeing mundane, domestic life in the background of madness. But Arthur, while happy to glance out the window once in a while and get a glimpse into the lives of his citizens, couldn't care less about petrichor or an old woman from the down the street under a fuchsia umbrella. Everything just felt so very... ...wrong.

Now, while being disconnected from his people had been a disconcerting feeling before, he had been able to mostly ignore it. But now... Every inch of his being was screaming that he wasn't supposed to be here, a hazy, worrying sense that made him feel as if he were about to be sick. His heart pounded like a frenzied drum, and he was even able to ignore the glass shards digging into him, how painful and harrowing they may be.

Ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump.

His heartbeat echoed his head, making him ache more than the horrible fragments he was lying on. Everything was wrong- wrong, wrong, wrong. He wasn't supposed to be here. No, not at all.

Everything slipped into black as he fell unconscious.

Not at all.


Within one's own dreamscape is the best way to look into the heart, albeit ambiguous and vague, hidden in plain sight.
Bordering on dream and reality is the very best way, for there is nowhere to hide the true meaning.

Arthur was afraid. He was so very afraid. With fear brought memories of the same scared intensity, and he grew more and more afraid. He remembered wars and hardships and ruin. He remembered horror and heartbreak and broken hopes. He remembered feeling his citizens die in all the bloody conflicts he had been involved in. Now they weren't there, there was just emptiness and wrongness and too much fear, too much.

He wasn't dying, that he was of the upmost certainty. He was just falling. Free-falling. Without a parachute.

No-one to catch him.

He was alone.

In the dark.

He was alone.

And a cruel monster was torturing him. Memories, memories, memories. Bordering on reminiscence. Memories, memories, memories. Too many mistakes, that other suffered for.

He was bordering on sheer terror.


When he not-quite-awoke from his not-quite-dream, he was in a bed, with his glass wounds bandaged up. As he stared up at the ceiling, he was almost hitting himself for his stupidity. Now was not the time to wallow in self-pity! He was in another dimension!

He sat up, wincing, and wondered where he was. Most probably Oliver's house...

He looked out the window. It was still raining outside.


Oops. I was being over-dramatic, wasn't I?

As I mentioned, strange but important chapter. If you happen to like making theories, I've given you plenty of material bordering in plain sight. Hehehe~!

Hope you enjoyed!