99. Authorial Intent

Date Written: December 16, 2020

Date Posted: December 24, 2020

Characters: Veneziano

Summary: On a separate plane of existence—a dream, perhaps?—Veneziano has an, but heartwarming conversation with a familiar stranger.

Notes: Hey, remember those weird author's notes at the end of the chapter (or beginning…. Or middle) that people used to write in the early 2000's? You know, the ones where the author has a conversation with the characters? Yeah, this is basically what it is, but it's more like a goodbye letter from my heart to the Hetalia fandom.


Veneziano, for some odd reason, found himself sitting at a table meant for two at what appeared to be a cafe. The table itself was round and pale white, the surface of which he observed to be some sort of plastic mimicking a wooden grain. Atop that surface, there was a small plate of tiramisu and a mug of steaming coffee set to the side. A bit amused and not as wary as before, Veneziano relaxed in his chair and took a sip of his coffee.

Much to his delight, it was the exact flavor and temperature that he often favored above all others. Humming contentedly, the Nation found his eyes wandering all around the cafe, noting that there were a few other patrons enjoying their own meals at their respective tables while a worker casually read a book at the cashier. Faint music—classical and distinctly whimsical in nature—faintly accented the ambience and filled the young man with a feeling of great serenity and contentment.

The state of the cafe…

It was almost surreal—dreamlike, he thought.

"That's because it is."

Abruptly, Veneziano whipped his head back to spot a person sitting at a seat opposite of his own. The occupant sat, bemused and somewhat annoyed, as they saw Veneziano close and open his mouth like a gaping fish. On their side of the table, the Nation noticed, was a glass of plain water and a half eaten piece of tiramisu.

"I beg your pardon?"

Despite his words being smooth, they did little to cover up the fact that he was somewhat suspicious of the supposed newcomer. How did he not see them before? Judging by the way they lounged and the state of their dessert, they had obviously been sitting at his table for quite some time. Yet, he couldn't remember sitting at this table with someone accompanying him.

In fact, he didn't remember coming here… Why didn't he remember…?

The stranger opposite him chuckled a little at him, as if they were harboring a secret that they were the only one privy to. The thought of being laughed at irked the Italian, but he pushed that feeling away.

"Don't worry about it, Mr. Veneziano. After all that I've put you through for almost two years, I don't have the heart or the reasoning to hurt you right now."

Veneziano blinked owlishly at the stranger.

"Hurting me? But we've only just met right now!" His exclamation, despite it being loud and somewhat alarmed, did little to gain the attention of the other people present in the cafe. That and the eye roll that the stranger gave him caught his attention. He narrowed his eyes and leaned slightly over the table, his hands grasping at the edges of the table, the plastic digging into his skin as he sought some way to ground himself.

He was a Nation for crying out loud! There was no way that he was going to feel threatened by a mere person who just happened to look too ill at ease in his presence.

There was just something off about them…

The stranger, weirdly enough, looked at him in the eye. Their gaze, while at first bemused and somewhat childish in nature, softened into something akin to sadness. Nostalgia.

"Right, I should probably remind you of our little… contract? Is that what I should call it?" Veneziano was about to ask a question, the confusion ever mounting, but the stranger shook their head and continued speaking, "Gosh, I really hope that this doesn't melt your brain or anything, Mr. Veneziano, but well…"

With resignation dimming the light in their eyes, the stranger clapped their hands once.

Twice.

And then—

Veneziano felt a searing pain at the corner of his temple before a blinding sensation of white light overtook his vision. For a second, it felt like agony that he would normally associate with natural or economic disasters had taken its toll on him, but eventually, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the pain vanished. And, as he slowly rubbed his temples and opened his eyes again, he saw—

A smile grew on his face and without much warning, the Nation practically threw himself over the table and onto the stranger's lap.

Despite the inappropriate connotations that would have surely garnered the attention of the staff and the fellow patrons at the cafe, the stranger allowed Veneziano to cuddle into their side and nuzzle the crook of their neck.

"Goodness!" Veneziano said as he finally allowed the stranger to breathe. "It's been so long since I've last seen you! When was it… Christmas… 2018? What brings you back, Devin?"

Devin, for that was the stranger's name, leaned back in their chair and flicked Veneziano on the nose.

"Geeze, I know that this whole situation is still an alternate dimension with no basis in reality and that no one really exists in this cafe but us, but can you please get off me?" Devin tried to push the Italian away, but the man was as stubborn as a mule and twice as heavy. "Come on, Mr. Veneziano! You're crushing me!"

Veneziano leaned into Devin's side again before breathing out a sigh into their ear—they cringed at the contact before poking Veneziano hard in the ribs—before he let go, laughing all the while. Smoothly, he left Devin's side and returned to his chair, his area just as undisturbed as before.

"You're looking awfully smug for someone who thought they were going to get murdered or kidnapped only a few minutes ago," Devin muttered as they stabbed a fork into their tiramisu.

Veneziano shrugged. "It comes with the territory of being a Nation. One can never be too careful or too cautious, especially since I had no idea who you were and what you were associated with." He took a sip of coffee before leveling his dark brown eyes at the stranger. "Then again, you should know by now… especially since you've been curating things about me for the better part of two years."

A pleased, but shy smile crossed Devin's face.

"I, er… There's a reason why I called you here. I…" Devin's face fell and a part of Veneziano felt his heart melt at the sight of the embarrassed flush that rested on their face. "Oh, how do I say this?"

For a moment, both occupants stared down at their chosen cup's contents. For Veneziano, he contemplated this meeting and the previous one he had with the stranger almost two years ago. Time had flown by so quickly… and yet so slowly as well. As for Devin, they appeared to be lost in thought before finally crossing their arms over their chest and muttering something incomprehensible under their breath.

Although he was a prodigy in regards to music (having perfect pitch was an advantage when one was tutored by Austria), Veneziano couldn't quite make out what they said.

"You might want to say that a little louder." Veneziano glanced around and found that none of the patrons were looking at them… or actually doing things that would be considered normal in any reality separate from their current one. "I highly doubt that anyone is going to hear you."

"Ha, very funny." Devin finally heaved a sigh before fiddling with their hands, a worried look on their face. "Hey, promise me when I tell you why I called you here that you won't hate me?" Their eyes looked deep into Veneziano's; they were pleading. "Please?"

"Dearest one," Veneziano couldn't help but gently murmur. He placed a warm, but comforting hand on one of Devin's shoulders, a look of paternal affection pooling in his eyes. "Why would I ever hate you? I'm already proud of what you did for me and the others."

A shaky sigh left Devin's lips as they glanced to the side before once again facing Veneziano. However, their eyes remained glued to the fake grainy surface of the table.

"Remember that deal we made all those years ago… Well I'm.. I… I'm ending the series soon." Their voice faltered. "For Christmas."

One of Veneziano's hands rested on top of Devin's head before gently ruffling their hair. At his touch, Devin stiffened and scowled at the sudden contact, but didn't shy away from the show of affection. In fact, if Veneziano didn't know any better, he would have thought that Devin was actually leaning into his touch.

Softly, he spoke. "You know, everything has a beginning and, eventually, an end. We both knew that you couldn't keep writing about me forever." He smirked. "Not that I wouldn't mind."

Devin giggled despite themself before saying, "It's just… I'll miss writing for you, you know? I've got so many other ideas in my head, but saying goodbye to you is going to be… difficult."

Veneziano raised a brow. "You can always write for me in the future. Why, you can always write for Romano! Or Germany if you're tired of me."

Despite the lighthearted nature of the conversation so far, Devin found themself brooding silently, their fingers tracing the rim of their glass of water. Their eyes were focused, and yet, unseeing at the same time. A little bit concerned now, Veneziano coughed a little to gain their attention.

"You know, I won't be mad. It's good to finally bring things to their end."

Devin smiled. "I know… I just got so attached to you after all these years, gained a new appreciation and understanding of you… It'll be hard to finally move on."

"But you did it. You're finally ending the series with what I hope to be a sound, well-deserved ending."

Devin glanced up to meet Veneziano's gaze head on. Their eyes were somewhat starry. Glassy. Almost as if they were about to cry.

"I'm going to miss you."

Veneziano got up from the table and once again hugged Devin. This time, Devin wasn't as against the action as they reciprocated the show of affection by wrapping their arms around Veneziano's shoulders and burying their head into his neck.

"I'll miss you, too, Devin. But remember—" Veneziano pulled back a little to look deeply into their eyes. "—I'll always be here if you need it."

Devin punched Veneziano on the shoulder, the action causing the Italian to feign hurt.

"You better be. You're one of my favorite comfort characters to write."