Lovino gazed unseeingly into the dark clouds. The rain pounded the earth around him. If he had the energy, he would have shivered from the cold. But his body had already been the same temperature as the rain long before the shower started.

He tried lifting his arm, reaching for the sky—but he only got about halfway. He also noticed that he couldn't breathe all that well anymore. There were several places on his body that he couldn't move or feel at all—though, maybe that had something to do with this numbing cold.

He was vaguely aware of the marble-like stones littered around him. The Frost Man had shattered—but not before dealing him a near-fatal blow.

He could just lie there forever and fade away. He could just close his eyes and never open them again.

But that was only if he had the energy.

Suddenly, a deep sadness welled up from deep within his heart. The connection was thin, barely noticeable, but the emotions were so intense, he felt physically moved by its assault.

And he realized he was crying. Tears bloomed and slid down the side of his face in stinging torrents. He didn't have the motivation to wipe them away.

Lovino couldn't understand—why was he crying? Did he have a reason to be sad? Was he really crying, or was that just the rain?

Did it matter? A few more minutes and he could sleep. A few more minutes and he could finally let go of this idiotic pain.

No . . .Fratello can't be gone! He can't be!

A few more minutes . . . and his stupid little brother's feelings wouldn't matter anymore.

Screw you, Feli. Why did you have to project your dumb emotions onto me? Can't I just die in peace?


Ludwig sighed and sat up. The rough ground beneath him left sore spots on his body. He rubbed the kinks out of his shoulder and glanced around.

"You're not going to go after him?" asked Ivan.

"What time is it?"

"Don't answer my question with another question. I've been noticing a change in you. Feliciano has seen it, too. There's a darkness lingering in your soul."

"I find that creepy," said Ludwig. "Sometimes I wonder if you really do know everything, or if you just guess correctly."

"Answer my question."

The German reached for a store sandwich in one of the bags Alfred brought. "I honestly don't see what I could do for him . . . His brother is his responsibility. Feliciano is too pure for someone like me. It would be best if he spent more time with someone like Spain."

"You're demeaning yourself, Ludwig. Does this have to do with the conversation you had?"

"That is none of your business, and if you really did know everything, then you already have your answer."

"You cannot bear something of that scale alone. Believe me; I know about solitude. Centuries of standing alone, on my own, shouldering heavy burdens, has left my mind shattered. Thankfully I have been insane from the beginning, so it's fine for me. But you are a different story."

Ludwig scoffed. "Yes. Different. At least you didn't drag anyone else into your insanity. Except maybe for that sister of yours."

"Belarus is on a completely different level from insane. And you're wrong. You didn't drag Feliciano or Kiku into your own ambitions because they had no choice. They wanted to be your comrade, Ludwig. You must treasure it. You cannot bear this burden alone."

"They don't need to bear it with me. If never such an idea existed, they would never have sided with me. The war would not have happened. The world would not have been torn apart. No one would have had to die."

"What's been done is over with. You're making sure it never happens again, right?"

Ludwig gazed at his sandwich, not feeling so hungry anymore. "It's a promise I intend to keep."

"Just remember that you are not your country, nor your people's conscience. You cannot influence what they think or will do. You are representing the causes, not their actions. Don't blame yourself. You are still a person. You have your own emotions, conflictions. You are human, therefore you have your own conscience and beliefs. You honestly did not want to take those lives."

"No," Ludwig admitted. "I didn't."

"So." Ivan sat back with a triumphant expression. "There you have it, da?"

"You do know everything, don't you?"

"Most things," the Russian said.

"You won't tell anyone?"

"No. But I wouldn't have to. They'll figure it out eventually."

Three feet away, Prussia tried to keep his awareness a secret. He'd been awake for a while and had listened in on their conversation. Much later, he would need to lecture his little brother on something he called stupidity.

"I can't believe you were actually of help to me," said Ludwig. "You don't seem like the consulting type."

"I'm not," said Ivan, smiling darkly. "You're falling into darkness; you can't avoid something like that. It'll happen. I'm just making you aware of where you stand this instant. You are a ways in, comrade."

"Ja. Thanks . . . I think."

Germany had to admit that that was the strangest conversation he ever had.


Little Liechtenstein wasn't going home with her brother like usual, since he was MIA. She was going to stay with Austria and Hungary for the time being.

She was reluctant at first, since they bumped into each other literally in the middle of the street. Later Ukraine relented and sent Lili into their care.

Roderich still had a sense of duty towards his former comrade. This duty extended to his relatives, meaning his sister. Elizabeta was absolutely exuberant about having another female in the household, since she spent most of her life hanging around males and a certain Prussian ape.

After saying her goodbyes to the Baltics, Poland, Belarus and Ukraine, she headed off with Roderich and Elizabeta.

"Do you have any idea on why your brother left his post?" Elizabeta asked.

Liechtenstein shook her head. "Bruder is a very cautious person. He may have seen something and gone to check it out."

"Do you know where he could have gone?"

"If the matter's been dealt with, I suppose he would head back home."

"Then we'll head over and check if he's at the house," Elizabeta decided. "Right, Roderich?"

"Of course." He leaned into Elizabeta's ear. "But what if he's not there?"

"It's unlikely he's dead," she supposed. "He could have been taken."

Liechtenstein glanced between the two nations. She knew that whatever they were whispering for was for her own good. If she didn't need to know, then she didn't need to know. Vash had drilled that into her head many ages ago, said that it would spare her 'innocence', whatever that meant.

Alongside her brother, Sweden, Iceland and Finland had also disappeared. There was a good chance all four of them were together or close by. That raised the odds of all their survival.

Lili prayed that all four of them were all right. Denmark and Norway were searching for their brothers. Hopefully Vash was with them, too, and they'd all come back safe and sound.


Feliciano Vargas crept cautiously towards the alley, Antonio bringing up the rear.

It didn't take some twin perception to know that Feliciano was over his head in anxiety. Antonio remembered back to what Ivan had told them: What you will see cannot be unseen. If you do not hurry, he could die.

No doubt that Feliciano wanted so much to run forward and see if his brother was fine—but he was a nation, and nations had to be wary at all times. Didn't matter which day of the week it was. All of them had to deal with potential assassinations and abductions at some point in their long lives. You couldn't even let your guard down when you were sleeping.

What untold horror would await them in that alley? Was there a slight chance that a Frost Man was still alive, and if they weren't careful, they'd be attacked at any second?

There was a good possibility that Lovino was already dead, if not dying. In fact, he could very well be beyond help.

Shut up, Antonio, he chastised himself. You haven't given up on him yet. He may not be able to work or clean, but Lovino has certain qualities that cannot be replaced. To go one day without him is like living an eternity without a sound mind. He is NOT going to die.

Feliciano paused at the entrance to the alley. Antonio stepped up next to him, wondering what the sudden halt was about.

A dark form was sprawled all over the filthy wet floor of the dingy alley. The head was facing in their direction, towards the light, as if the last thing it ever wanted to see before it died was someone—anyone.

The figure's eyes were vacant, blank, just staring ahead of him into space. Judging from the colour, it was obvious who it was, even if the eyes lacked spark.

"F-fra . . . tello?"

Lovino Vargas didn't move. He gave no recognition that he was even alive.

Feliciano surged forward and slid to his knees, scooping his brother into his arms. He scanned Lovino's face, looking for anything that might tell him that his brother was alive.

Antonio knelt beside him and waved a hand in front of Lovino's face. "He's still breathing. But barely, I'm afraid."

Feliciano pressed his ear to his brother's chest. The faint heartbeat continued with its slow rhythm. He shook Lovino's body.

"Wake up, fratello," he pleaded. "Everyone's waiting for you to wake up."

Lovino's eyes stared past his face, still empty and cold.

Feliciano drew his brother closer and sobbed into his hair. "No . . . you can't be dead. You can't be! I'm not Italy without Romano! You can't die here. I won't let you!"

Antonio held Lovino's hand, his expression between grim and anguished. "Feli. Maybe he really is—"

"NO!" Feliciano screamed. "I won't accept it! Something like this can't just happen so easily!" He looked up. "I know! We'll get him to the others. Hopefully someone can heal him, and he'd be fine. Right? Antonio, he's going to be fine, right?"

"Feli." Antonio shook his head sadly. "I love Lovino too, but sometimes, you need to let what you love go."

"And sometimes," the Italian added, "what you love will come back. Fratello is not dead!"

Antonio leaned forward and kissed Lovino on the forehead. Then he did the same thing to Feliciano. "I will give you a moment to say goodbye. But then we need to start heading back. The others will get worried." He stood and stared apathetically at Lovino's pale face. He turned to leave.

"Antonio! He's not dead! Do you hear me? Antonio, look at me!"

The Spaniard exited the alley with an unusual stoic coldness, leaving Feliciano alone with Lovino.

What's wrong with him?

Feliciano looked back down at his brother's face. "They have no idea . . . They can't feel what I can feel. And I know, fratello, that you're still alive. So please, say something. Look at me. Anything . . . Please."

Hot tears mixed with the rain trickled down his cheeks and splattered onto his brother's face. Feliciano cradled Lovino's body as he murmured Italian prayers into his ear.

There was . . . so much he never got to say. So much that he wanted to say. And now, Lovino was slipping away, and Feliciano was afraid he'd never get to say those words. He wanted to say sorry. He wanted to apologize for all those times he'd been inconsiderate, reckless and a hindrance.

He didn't want to be all alone in this cruel, vast world. He didn't want to go into work and not see his brother in the office with him. Ludwig and Kiku were his dear friends, and he'd miss them terribly if they went out the same way. But Lovino . . . Lovino was his brother, his twin. If Lovino disappeared, it was the same thing as getting half of his heart ripped out.

"I—I never wanted . . . I never wanted you to die for me, fratello. You didn't have to go that far." Feliciano choked back a sob. "No one was asking you to die for them . . . The purpose of this unification was so all of us could survive—together. You are no exception. So please, just—come back to me."

So much that I wanted to say.

"Fe . . . li . . . ci . . ."

Feliciano recoiled and stared incredulously at his brother. The noise was scratchy and wispy, like the throat hadn't met moisture in centuries. Did Lovino just . . . speak?

"Fe . . . li . . . D-damn . . . you."

No, it wasn't his imagination. Lovino was alive! "Fratello?"

The rain budded from behind Lovino's eyes and came rushing down in slivers. No, that wasn't it. Not rain—Romano was crying. His face was as blank as ever, and his eyes the same state, but he was conscious.

"Damn you," he spoke hoarsely. "Why do you . . . have to be . . . such an emotional . . . wuss?"

A wide smile broke across Feliciano's face. "I knew it!" he shouted, his voice cracking. "I knew you were still alive!" He hugged his brother tight. "I knew you wouldn't give up so easily!"

"What—" Lovino coughed. "What are you . . . saying? Who's the one . . . that gives . . . up easily?"

Feliciano nearly forgot the reason why he was here in the first place. "That doesn't matter! I have to get you to the others!"

"Stop your stupid . . . crying . . . first. I hate it . . . when I have to . . . share your damned feelings."

Feliciano laughed, the water in his eyes blocking his vision. "What are you saying, silly fratello? You're not crying because I'm crying. You're crying because you are. I can feel what you feel, remember? You're happy, fratello. That's what your heart tells me."

Lovino just stared at first, uncomprehending. And then his face constricted into a picture of conflicted agony, and he began to weep openly. "Dammit . . . why? Why does it have to be you? Why couldn't I . . . have gotten a less stupid little brother?" He reached up with his single mobile arm to shield his tears. "You could've just let me die . . . I hate you so . . . so much."

Feliciano rocked his older twin, humming an old tune that Grandpa Rome used to sing. "You're equally stupid, fratello. Don't ever try running off by yourself again."

"Worry about yourself, stupid." But he couldn't stay mad at Feliciano for long. Lovino smiled softly and shut his eyes, letting the raindrops hit his face. Because he knew, at that moment, that he was alive. "I won't."

In all honesty—though he was never going to admit it—he was glad he didn't die. He felt relief that Feliciano really had come for him. And he was so, so glad that Feliciano hadn't been the last person he would ever see, because there was no way he would want his little brother to have a memory of him dying, in his arms.

It'd always been an annoying concept—that twin perception. But at least it brought him Feliciano. Just this once, Lovino would let his barriers fall.

Just this once.


I wrote this listening to REALLY sad music. Literally brought me to tears. I was reluctant to release this chapter at first because I thought it wasn't so good, but I realized that this story would go NOWHERE if I didn't continue to post. And I want to get to the end of this first arc already.

I can officially tell you all that there will be a second series to this one. Don't know what the title is yet, but after this arc, I will put up the next in a completely new fic, because I just noticed this fic will reach a gajillion chapters if I don't. So thanks for understanding!

As always, thanks for reading, and I'll let you know when I've posted the next series. Au revoir~