Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia


Feliciano and his mother sat at a small table in a restaurant. The thirty-six year old woman was beautiful, with reddish-brown hair that almost matched Feli's, and soft green eyes that sparkled in the artificial light of the room.

"Why...?" Feliciano started, but trailed off, not sure exactly what to ask.

"I was very ill. I couldn't take care of you." She sighed sadly, the harsh regret showing in her eyes.

"Oh. Why...why didn't you tell me about Lovino?"

"What?" She looked slightly panicked at the mention.

"Father brought him soon after you left." Feliciano clarified. "Why didn't you tell me I had a brother?"

"Oh, I- I never thought you'd meet him. When we moved to America, your father and he went to Spain." Internally, she cursed herself for her choice of country.

"...What a coincidence!" Feliciano smiled brightly, giggling a bit.

"Ve~, It's just that-" He was cut off by her phone ringing.

"Excuse me." His mother said, before answering it. Only a moment later, she closed the phone with a sharp 'click'. The, she turned back to Feliciano, a bright, innocent smile on her face.

"Why don't you come with me for a while?"


"God dammit, motherfucker, you stupid fucking Brit!" Spain screamed, struggling against the hands on his shoulders. "You never said it would fucking hurt!"

"Oh? I must've left that part out." Arthur said dryly. "I'm basically ripping your soul out of his body and then making you a new body, of course it's going to hurt."

"Fuck you, Eyebrows!"

"Shut the bloody hell up, git!" Arthur yelled back. "It's almost over anyway."

Only seconds later, a bright glow illuminated the room and Francis released Spain's shoulders. There was one final scream of pain before all went quiet.

"Did it work?" Francis asked quietly. Slowly, the glow dimmed until they could see again. In the middle of the room laid two bodies. Arthur let out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding.

"Ugh..." Spain groaned. Francis rushed to help him up, but was smacked away. "Don't touch me, pervert." He wasn't weak dammit. Or so he thought, as he stood and swayed on his feet. He steadied himself and looked down at Antonio, fascinated by the fact that they were actually separated. Never again would he have to fight for consciousness.

"This is fucking freaky." Spain said to himself, blinking when he realized his voice was deeper now. When he caught his reflection in a nearby mirror, he found that his hair was slightly longer, too.

"..." Spain turned, feeling someone staring at him. With wide eyes, he and Antonio finally stood face to face.


Tell me what you think~