Author's Ramble:
For those unfamiliar with the concept, 2p!Hetalia are made up of alternate personalities for the nations based on the alternate colorings by Himaruya. Since most of their designs look darker and more sinister, their personalities are often portrayed darker, crazed, or "opposite" from the originals. Most of the following characterizations are inspired by tumblr blogs I follow, but I really wanted to explore further reasoning to their personalities in this alternate world.
Rather than just make their world harsher, or the nations themselves evil by nature, I worked with the concept of "What if the nations didn't care about humans at all? What if they denied that part of themselves completely? They would feel the wage of war but refuse to participate. They would care about their lands but only in a territorial way. What if nations themselves were NOT patriotic?" Sounds silly...I guess...
Enjoy the chapter :)
Let go of the past; It is behind us.
Tentatively, almost afraid of the moment shattering away, Belarus raised one of her hands. The mirror figure did the same. She turned her head to the side and it was copied. When she opened her jaw, a few words came out from the glass.
"Please, stop."
It caught the woman off guard and she took a step back in response. Somehow this broke whatever spell was connecting them together. Her reflection hunched over, letting out a sigh while shivering slightly. Belarus snapped her head to ask Spain for an explanation but the man was already gone, probably leaving when she was distracted. She slowly turned back to the reflection.
"Hi," said the figure, sheepishly waving.
"Who are you?" She demanded curtly. "Are you another empire technological tool?"
They stared at each other. The mirror showed her the face of everything Belarus wasn't. The other woman's face was softer on all its edges, smoothed to tempt another hand to caress it. Her eyes were not narrowed into suspicion, or weighed down by dark bags from sleepless nights. Her bangs were kept away from her face, pinned up by a few hair-clips. That smile, was so trusting.
Her voice, she now realized, was exactly like hers, except the way it was used made it feel like it belonged to a stranger.
"Um...how do I say this...I am...well...you, from an alternate universe"
"Bullshit. What are you really?"
The other woman flinched, and looked down. Instead of replying, her hands were playing with a frill on her pastel dress. Belarus continued pressing her questions but to no avail. The other woman clamped up and ignored her, seeming to be waiting out her bombardment. With a roll of her eyes, Belarus gave up.
The voice, was not quite like hers, spoke at last, "Are you done?"
Unamused, the young woman turned away, deciding that now was a good time to go exploring. As if sensing her intent, the reflection coughed harshly when she took a step. Belarus returned her attention back to the figure.
"I wouldn't go into the other rooms," she chimed innocently.
"And why is that?"
"...why are you even here?"
"That is my own business." Then she smirked, "Or if you are me...you'll already know."
"Your big brother. " Belarus frowned while the other continued, "Tell me, what is it like to waste so much effort chasing the man who ruined your life?"
"Brother is kind."
"Kind? Hah! He doesn't appreciate anything that you do for him, he constantly avoided you and...hm….he left you locked up in a shelter to rot the rest of your days waiting."
She glared in return, "You do not know anything."
"I am you." The reflection raised her hand, "I so badly want to make you slap yourself and free you from this longing for that monster."
"DON'T YOU DARE SAY THAT ABOUT BROTHER!"
She tossed the knife and shattered the glass. All it did was distort the image. Belarus expected her 'other self' to start laughing, mock her for her outburst. But, instead they remained silent. Their eyes, now broken apart into several pieces, were colder and darker than anything she could ever muster herself; They pitied her.
"You'll learn eventually."
The other woman vanished.
Unable to simply stand there, Belarus stepped towards the balcony and the collection of turtles first. She wanted to figure out why there wasn't a breeze coming from the open window. Embroidered faces looked on, as she let her hands touch the railings. She looked down below, seeing the car where she had left it. Her hand waved at the open air in front of her. Not feeling anything odd, except for the lack of wind, she was about to return inside the building when she halted her leg from stepping on something.
A turtle had fallen down in the middle. With a shrug, she placed the turtle on the shelf and continued.
The room next to this one was the open kitchen. Again, the woman couldn't find anything odd about it and a bit of her was surprised that Spain wasn't in here. The blender was even an obsolete electric model, as shiny as it would have been its popular days. Her hand traced the granite counter as she left. In the corner of her eye, caught another turtle peeking out of the cabinet. She snorted. He must've placed those in every corner of this house, she thought.
There was a second exit inside the kitchen, which led out into another hallway. Three wooden doors faced the other on each side. She turned to her right,expecting a wall, but discovered there was a door that led to the stairs. She peered down the hall again. Recalling the height of the building, she wondered if there was another elevator like earlier that could bring her to any other floors.
Not wanting to waste any more time speculating, she walked forward. Her knives were kept away in case she bumped into Spain. In here, the woman was still at the mercy of the Empire, and angering her friendly host was the surest way to get in massive trouble. Belarus had enough playing captive.
The first door on the left side was locked. The second opened up to a bathroom. The one across that was a bedroom, unused and well kept. Third on the right side, there was something much more interesting, a room filled with dozens upon dozens of paintings. Belarus took a closer look inside.
Faces and bodies were hashed up and contorted into abstract disturbing shapes, with colors that contrasted angrily. As she went further and further, she felt as if the images were screaming at her, furious for her trespassing. Red eyes glared at her through the pitch black of their canvas trappings. Her own eyes searched around for an answer in the madness. She found it, in the sole calm image in the center.
"Ukraine?" She gasped.
She ran to it, almost seeking refuge in the very painting itself. Watercolor lightly outlined the figure. Framed up to the bust, the portrait directed its gaze right at her. Her older sister's eyes were in drooped shapes but the structure of her shoulders were strong, as she had always been. Those cheeks were rosy, in almost equal surprise Belarus was there.
Having not expected this, her body trembled slightly. However, Belarus didn't cry. She continued staring at the realistic capture her sister. It was at this point she heard a cough behind her.
Another mirror had been placed behind her. That infuriating version of herself returned.
"Don't you miss her?"
Belarus returned a glare over her shoulder, "Yes."
"Then why are you not crying?"
It was Belarus' turn to refuse to reply. She continued gazing at the face, a stronger longing building up within her. She then did the most irrational thing that she had done in years. The young woman closed her eyes and reached to touch it, pretending that her sister was there.
And her sister was, at least in her mind. That skin was soft, reassuring to her that everything was going to be okay. Her sister's callous hands would reach up to hers, strong in their hold to keep her in check. Those tears, that Belarus would tease were like endless rivers, would gently trickle past the side of her hand.
She could hear her voice say…
"Be strong."
The intrusive sound made her snap open her eyes. Her sister was gone and all she could feel was the texture of the canvas. She pulled her hand away quickly. With a deadly look in her eyes, she whizzed her head around to yell at the reflection. But her other self wasn't there anymore. Neither was the mirror.
In its place was another turtle, a ceramic figurine, with a drunken sort of expression. She picked up the turtle and was surprised to hear it start laughing. She shook the object harshly, causing it to giggle louder. Startled, she dropped it. It clanked on the ground but it didn't break.
"Awww...you're so cute!" A voice on her left cooed.
The mirror had been moved over to the left, and a busty older woman had taken or other self's place. She was swinging around a glass bottle and hiccuped. The top two buttons of her blouse had been undone, unabashed by their exposure.
"The original will always be the cutest," The woman said as she winked at her. "But you come very very close."
"You...are…"She began to say.
There was a thud and her other's self voice finished, "The other version of your Ukraine."
Belarus looked back now there was another mirror placed there. Another turtle, sewn out of felt this time, at its foot. She picked it up. Footsteps echoed closer to her and she raised her head away from the turtle.
"Oh, there you are Belarus!"
"Spain, what is going on here?" She said pointing to the mirrors, the paintings and the turtle in her hands. On seeing the object in her hand, the brunet's happy face dropped. It was grim, just as she had expected to be. But not this way...
His response was cracking with grief, "They're all gone Belarus. All of them...Portugal...France...Prussia...the Italy brothers…Belgium…THAT BASTARD BURNED THEM ALL!"
"S-spain?" Belarus backed up.
"...and...and...I was next….he was going to get his cold cold hands on me... It isn't safe anymore...America...he...he didn't give me the weapons in time. I was supposed to get that shipment last week."
"What are you talk-"
Her other self figured shushed her and raised a finger to her own lips. She gestured that Belarus should listen.
"And when Russia was defeated...I knew that I was so close...so close…but they saved me..."His face returned to its cheery self again, but oddly more creepy this time.
Spain ran forward and grabbed her wrists. She dropped the turtle resembling her other self and let out a yelp from the pain of his tightening grip. The Spaniard's voice was more hysterical than before. She struggled at freeing herself from his strong desperate hands.
"They can save you too! You'll feel like everyone's returned. No one died in that other world. They were better prepared than us. The King could not get them and our Leader hates being around them. You can forget the wasteland, the empire, everything, if you stay. "
"Let me go," Belarus hissed, knocking the man's feet beneath him. He let go of her hands but his rambling didn't stop.
He was flat on his back but still he reached out to her, "Don't you want that? You can live here in happiness! With your brother too!"
"DON'T YOU CALL FOR HIM!" Her other self screeched, now significantly paler.
The other Ukraine tsked, "You're too hard on your brother."
"HE TRIED TO MARRY ME OFF FOR A BAG OF GOLD!"
"A long time ago. Get over it." The woman directed her gaze to the darker colored Belarus, "You know it'd be really nice if you did stay here. We could use another hand around here. Hey, Spain, be a dear and get a her a turtle too."
"Don't…"her other self pleaded but then a large bottle was tossed at her. She ducked, frowned at her sister, then at Belarus. With a sigh, the other Belarus disappeared again.
As if nothing had happened, the man got up on his feet and ran out the door. In shock, the young woman didn't try to move at all. She heard a group of keys jangle, a door clicked, silence, then another click. When Spain returned, he had a small felt turtle in his hands without a face on it. He shoved it at her, squishing it against her nose.
And in the moment time slowed down. Her shoulders relaxed as she took the felt into her hands. Her mind was hazy, light and bubbly. The corners of her lips were lifting, way beyond her control at this point. Her surroundings blurred and her heart beat excitedly, as if she were on a whirlwind ride in a wagon, traversing the open countryside and forests.
But an image of the wasteland, in all of its injust glory, flashed within her mind. She thought of the human Liberators she fought with, of India and Scotland, of Dome #35. She gasped, as if someone had punched her in the gut. Belarus had a promise keep. Her hands pushed away the turtle, completely determined to drop it.
Then another rush of images flooded her mind. Her brother. He was smiling, laughing, alive. Her body began to throb, alerting her to all of the pains that had been inflicted by the wasteland's cruelty, the bruise at her side, that gunshot wound in her thigh that caused her to still limp to one side. In the empire, they would be able to heal her completely.
If she lived here...it wouldn't be so bad. The Leader didn't even come around here. It wouldn't be like she was adding to anyone's problem. She wasn't participating in anything. She needed this break. She was just so...so...sick and tired of fighting…all those people she killed. Her hands needed to be clear of all this red.
Belarus brought the stuffed felt creature closer to her chest, but it hovered before touching it.
A memory of a voice shouted at her.
"you're exactly what I thought you were. Selfish."
That equally determined Australian, head-strong, quick on his feet, popped into the forefront of her mind and gave her his angriest look. A hint of hurt glinted in those green eyes. She turned her head away.
Her gaze met with portrait of Ukraine from earlier.
Her resolve to stay with the Liberators melted away again. She brought the turtle to her chest. Family came first. She gave Spain a nod of confirmation. Before she could understand what was happening, blackness surrounded her.
She awoke to the sound of birds chirping, like the brand new day of spring. Belarus smiled and pressed a button to stop the alarm. She looked around her plain bedroom, a guest room among many that Spain had prepared and maintained.
Four days had passed since Belarus had decided to join them. Every day more of her memory slipped away and she couldn't have been happier. Her other self explained that Belarus could affect the control of their bodies meanwhile on her side, they could control her mentally. The turtles made it easier to do and you could track who was in the room. Belarus didn't understand much of what she said.
Turns out, the sole thing that made their universes different was how the nations chose to act. In her world, nations felt a sense of duty to their people and governments, an undeniable need to protect and interact. In their world, they didn't care at all and lived away from humans. Their fights were always personal and territorial. As a result, they were more wary of each other, and so noticed right away when their Canada was acting bizarrely.
She had met with the other version of Russia here. He was much more gruff and unfriendly than her brother. Belarus didn't mind. At least this one wasn't afraid of her. She followed all of his orders, placing whatever he wanted in front of his turtle, which would somehow disappear into his world. Thinking about it made her head hurt, so she didn't.
Other nations from that other world were here too. The other England could cook incredibly well but she was warned not make him angry. Apparently, the war had made him master poisons and he had habit of practicing with people he hated. The other Italies were...strange. One of them wanted to fix her wardrobe, and the other had a thing for knives too. She didn't like them as much. The other N.A brothers were barred from coming here.
"Do you really want to stay here?" Her other self asked as she got ready that morning.
Belarus played with the bow on her head. It seemed...tacky now. Maybe she should remove it. "I make my own choices."
"I know how you truly feel."
Belarus sighed. Her other self had been acting like this since she had agreed to stay. "I have chores to do. Go away."
"Don't you have a promise to keep?"
At this, the icy woman stopped smiling and gave her mirror a glare, "I am tired. Go. Away." She finally took off her bow and placed it on the side-table.
Her other self shook their head, "...as if it's that easy…"
"Can't you travel anywhere in our world as long as there's reflective glass? The others can."
"I can only go where you last were…" the other whispered then vanished. Belarus shrugged it off. A tiny bit of her chest hurt, painfully so. She gripped her hands tight. No, she was...hungry! That's it! That's all it was.
Life was so blissfully peaceful here and she never wanted to to give it up. Her family was with her after all. That's all that ever mattered to her.
Right?
A/N: I'm going to try to pick up the pace with updating these chapters. I would appreciate any comments to tell me how I'm doing so far.