.~.~.~.~.

Lovino Romano Vargas died on the first snowfall of the year.

It was too early, everyone said, for the nation to be this cold. Too early, too soon, for it to be snowing. Too early for death, too early for war. The streets were still burning, and they would continue.

North Italy limped along at the lead of the procession, behind his brother's casket, Germany and France close behind him. The fires left a long burn along his leg, making walking painful, but he wasn't about to let himself be coddled. Not anymore. He was on his own now, and he was going to show the world that he could handle it. No more would Italy be weak. He couldn't afford to be, not anymore, not without his brother to support him, and he without a brother to support in return. If he didn't, he wasn't sure what would happen to him, if this revolution would take him too like his brother. He had survived many, ones much bloodier than this, but there had been so many funerals as of late.

The rest of the world wasn't fairing very well either, and he knew not just from word of mouth. He glanced back at the long line behind him, partially in wonder and partially in tearful gratitude. So many nations had come—if his brother could see them, he would be in shock. He probably never realized just how many nations actually cared.

As the casket was lowered into the ground and the priest sprinkled it with holy water, North Italy—no, just Italy now, wasn't he?—found himself looking not at the ground, but the sky.

"Grant this mercy, O Lord, we beseech Thee, to Thy servant departed, that he may not receive in punishment the requital of his deeds who in desire did keep Thy will, and as the true faith here united him to the company of the faithful, so may Thy mercy unite him above to the choirs of angels. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

.~.~.~.~.

When someone special passes on
It does not mean that they are gone,
Although they are no longer with us
Their memory still lives on.

Dreams are special, fickle things
Dearest to our hearts
They hold the things we wish for most
An unblemished piece of art.

But beware the dream that seems too good
Too perfect to be true
Before you know it, there's no way out
It has captured you.

Where you used to be, there is a hole in the ground. I find myself constantly walking around it in the daytime, and falling into it at night. I miss you like hell.

We will all miss you, all of you. Even if we never said it, deep down, we loved you. The world isn't the same, not without you. Draw a circle, it's you. Draw a circle, it's me. Draw a circle, it's the world. Despite our differences, we're all cut from the same cloth. So watch over us, our brothers and sisters. In the years to come, we'll need it.

We hope you're happy, wherever you are.

May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace.

.~.~.~.~.

.

.

A/N: I hope you all had a good read. This story has been my baby for well over a year now, so now that it's finished, it's sad to see it go. Thanks to all my readers and reviewers (especially you, Kitty :P) who saw this thing through to the end~

For those of you who were interested in the alternate ending, give me a few weeks and I'll start posting it.