A/N: I change my mind. I will write some more drabbles for the untold stories. If you had any request for any untold stories, just review and I will edit it.

1. The Germans.

"Recently, the Russian army had defeated Americ-"

"A shock that has come with everyone that the strongest natio-"

"As you already know, the defeated of th-"

"The Rus-"

Prussia groaned. He turned off the radio, which droned with the fucking news over and over again after turned the dial for a lot of time. Damn all the news. The news weren't something so rare that you had to repeat it over and over. He afraid of anything will happen to the world now. The news would change the world for sure, even an illiterate could know that.

A small knocked on the door broke his thought. He was about to grabbed the doorknock, but then heard his little brother said. "Don't." Prussia sat down instead, turning his back to the door.

"Have you heard the news?" Germany asked him, Prussia growled.

"Who wouldn't?"

2. Goodbye.

"Prussia." Germany said, his voice seems a bit broken, caused the albino to raised his eyebrows. "Yes, west?"

"I know that you won't like this but..." Germany hesitantly said, "...Run."

"Huh?" Prussia was caught off guard by this. "Why?"

"It's no doubt that Russia will attack the whole world now." Germany said, his voice wobbled. "I know the best that you never want to visit his place again. And because you're not a nation anymore... you can run."

"What about you?"

"I can't. I have my people to protect."

"But I'm the awesome Prussia! A Prussian never leave!" The door suddenly opened, and Prussia could feel the wamrth behind his back, even though the door wasn't there anymore. Germany was hugging him. Hard.

"Please, bruder... do this for me... and your own sake." He was trembling right now. His bruder, the one who never had any other expression than angry. Bit his lip, Prussia turned back and landed a small kiss on Germany's forehead.

"Live, west."

3. Realization.

Prussia, during his lonely metanoia, had come to a realize.

This was someone dream.

Because if this was real, then there wouldn't had any place in Russia had sunflowers and water pipe growing from the snowy earth.

This was Russia's dream.

Hate to admit, but Russia had a surprisingly increadible imagination. Prussia smirked once again, the smirked that didn't exist in his face for a long time. He ran as fast as he could, to Russia. To Moscow. To the place where his bruder was there.

In that case, it's harmless if I would be a hero, right?