He stood over his brother's grave, looking down at the headstone with the white Easter lilies neatly placed on the grave in their pale yellow wrapping.
"Why bruder, why did it have to end like this?" He thought as the snow fell down around him; getting on his olive drab military winter coat and in his pale blonde hair. The man just wiped his eyes on the back of his black gloves and with his head down he turned and started to walk away from the grave. The man's name was Ludwig "Germany" and the grave was that of Gilbert "Prussia" Beilschmidt.
It had been five years since Prussia had died; today marked the five year anniversary of that horrible, bloody, hellish night in Berlin that they; the allies, killed Prussia. Gilbert "Prussia" or Gil had been Ludwig's only living relative. Their mother had been killed by Siberian soldiers in a raid of their home; the Germanian Empire shortly after Ludwig was born and their grandfather; Germania himself had been killed by their great uncle Scandinavia when Ludwig was ten years old. Ludwig had been named after Germania in respects to the country name his human name however stayed Ludwig even though everyone now knew him as Germany or a few people knew him as West.
As Germany continued his walk home he continued to think of his brother and how close but not close they were; like siblings usually are. He continued to think about it till he got home then he went upstairs to his room and laid on his bed writing in a notebook all the things he could remember about his brother. 'Memories of my brother' was what he titled it then he thought about it
"I don't really have that many good or bad memories of Prussia; actually I don't really have many memories of him at all from when I was young," Germany mumbled as he thought aloud then one hit him; that one day all of those years ago when Germany was getting pushed around by France and Prussia and Spain stepped in and stopped him from bullying the young Germany. It was a cold winter day and France was pushing the little German around and almost burying the little boy in the snow when Prussia and Spain showed up.
"Hey Frog!" Prussia yelled to get his attention so he would stop trying to bury Germany "get your unawesome butt over and leave West alone!" he yelled again before threatening to kick France's butt from one side of Europe to the other and back again.
"Honestly France, I thought you knew better than to pick on a defenseless young country when you know his brother could probably beat you with one hand, I thought you learned your lesson when England almost beat you half to death for picking on America now you have Prussia mad because you are picking on his little brother. you really need to stop this France," Spain replied shaking his head as Prussia walked over to were Germany was, dug him out after France buried him and held him tight in arms telling him he was going to be alright and glaring at France over Germany's head.
"Doitsu Doitsu!" Ludwig awoke to the sound of Italy standing down stairs yelling Doitsu at the top of his lungs like usual.
"Ja? Was ist das Feliciano?" Germany called back in response. He glanced down at his notebook and realized that he had not written anything down.
"I'm making dinner, you want any?" the Italian yelled again, would it kill him to come up the stairs to his room instead of yelling?
"Sure why not," was Germany's response. He got up off of his bed before looking back at the notebook and the title written on the page. It looked like the memories of Prussia would have to wait.