Disclaimer: No, I am not Himaruya, so I don't own Hetalia, nor am I the creator of HetaOni and can claim all its glory. I do however own this writing, and I hope you all enjoy it.
Every time, it's exactly the same. I can see the door, it's within my reach, but I can't touch it. Freedom, an escape from the madness, is what it offers.
But I can't reach it.
I can't recall what the sun looks like. Is it purple? It's been so long, since that day, so many times the clock has gone back to that moment, back to the time when I smiled carefree.
The time when I was alive.
There are only broken mirrors here, but I know what I would see without the cracks: a face I do not recognize, a face not my own. The smile that used to grace my features has molded into a permanent scowl.
How could the world do this to me?
All my friends, I watch them fall, time and time again. And this time, they won't get back up. I've seen their tears and shed them too, but after the clock has turned back once more, it won't matter. They don't remember.
But I do.
I remember the bloody butterflies on their clothes, whose wings unfurled and spread, I saw their ailments progress. I tried my best, but a single white flag can only make so many bandages. The end was always inevitable.
Why am I trapped in this hell?
I keep wanting just one chance for them to make it out, make it out of this place alive, all of them, but this dream eludes me. Just like the door, it's just out of reach, but why?
WHY! ? !
I see the door before me. It's brown with a white trim. I feel the handle, cold to the touch. I dare not turn back, for the scene behind me…..cannot be bared again. I try the knob.
And it opens.
I can see the sun now; my, it's yellow. Who would have guessed? I turn to see it, the thing that has haunted me for as long as the clock has spun. I giggle quietly to myself. Finally, my suffering is coming to a close, all the painful pictures that replay behind my eyelids will cease and blissful, eternal sleep will embrace me.
I wonder if I'll get to see grandpa again.
'ITALY!'
My eyes widen. A certain blond haired man stands in front of me, looming over me because of the height difference.
No, no, this must be my imagination. This can't be real, I watched you die, Germany!
I slowly reach my hand out, desperate to know: are my eyes showing me the truth, or have I finally lost my grasp of reality? My hand stops short when I hear another faint, fuzzy, whiny voice.
'Vee~ Germany, I was only playing with the kitty! Don't make me run laps again, Japan's not even here yet, and it's almost lunch time- do you mind if I make pasta or do you want some-'
A smiling version of myself stands beside Germany, a foggy memory playing out right before my eyes. Oh, I remember this time- it was back in World War Two. Just another day of Germany nitpicking me like a mother hen, until-
The mist-bodied German gripped the Italian's shoulders and stared down at him, his icy-blue eyes effectively cutting off any further babble from him.
'Italy, this is war, it is no time to blather on about nonsense and not take things seriously! War is a bloody, unforgiving nightmare that will leave you all alone in the end, and the screams of your comrades falling before your eyes will haunt you for the rest of your days. This isn't something new to you, you already know this and yet here you are, pathetically trotting on with your blissful fantasy. It's time to end this; everyday, the enemy takes more of our men, either wrapped up in chains or body bags. This is the time to fight. I don't care if you're facing that vodka drinking creep, bush-for-brows or even America's weird alien friend, show them what you're made of, show them what true Italian spirit is!'
My misty-self opened his eyes and looked at Germany with clear eyes that told the story of a country that had seen his share of times good and bad and knew what one should keep dear to themselves through the passing centuries. My memory self spoke with the voice of an old timer passing wisdom onto the next generation.
'Germany, I'm not walking in a daze, I'm enjoying all the time I have with you. After all, I don't know when it will end, this friendship between us: you, Japan, and I. Eventually, a time will come where we might be facing each other as bitter enemies or, God forbid, one of us disappears from the map, or any number of other possibilities. I don't know what the future will hold, so all I can do is cherish the now.'
Germany's eyes widened a bit, that was probably one of those moments where he remembered that I was older than him, had seen and done and gone through so much more than him.
'Italy, I hadn't considered that side of it. It's just...I just want you prepared for the battlefield, for everything that you will have to face and endure through. Even if I might fail and be dissolved, I want you to promise me that you will not give in, that you will fight and carry on, that you will live on. That you will live on forever.'
The misty Italian smiled a bit, and returned to his normal joking self. 'There's no reason for that promise 'cause you're not gonna die on me, right Germany?'
Germany smiled a bit, just a faint twitch of his lips, but a smile nonetheless. 'Ja, that's defiantly not in my plan.'
In a bit of a serious tone, Italy said, 'Pinkie swear?' My past self held his pinkie to ensure that the blond would follow through with his oath.
My current self laughs a bit at the juvenile ways of me in the past, and the smile that I thought had been lost to me for good came back to my lips then.
A small, gruff giggle escaped the German's lips as he joined his pinkie with his friend's. 'Yes, I promise not to die on you, just as long as you keep fighting on.'
A blinding smile graced the Italian's lips. 'You got it, Germany!'
A gray hand cut their misty bodies in half. My smile fell from my lips, replaced with a trembling lip. Oh yes, it was still here.
It slowly inches closer to me as I quiver in fear. This is the end, but now I don't want to leave. No, I want to march up to Germany and kick his shin, and yell at him. 'Why did you die! You pinkie swore you wouldn't!'
'And you promised to keep fighting on.'
Tears stream down my cheeks as his voice whispers once again through my mind. Oh Germany, how could you die on me? And why only now did I remember our promises? Is it truly the end? It must be, God must want me to suffer even more, to make me know that I failed to fulfill your promise in my last moments of life.
'You idiot! Get your ass up and leave, this is your chance to live, don't you dare waste it!'
My limbs run without hesitation, but my mind is still lost.
Oh Germany, oh Germany...How could I ever make that promise? Go on with out you? I can't, Germany, I can't!
I touch the iron bars of the gate, and I stop. This is my cell; I cannot leave here, not alone. Germany's rant of 'Get out now!' and 'You idiot, run!' fade into the back of my head as I turn to face it, venom in my voice.
Take me back! You can do it, I know you can! Take me back to when my friends still breathed air and didn't cough blood! Take me back to before they went blind and fell before my eyes!Take me back so Germany can be true to his word!
TAKE ME BACK!
All it does is stand there. I can't take its vacant stare.
Please,…just give me another chance….
'Hey, are you ok? You were kinda spacing out there.' A pat to the shoulder
'C'mon, the secrets of this 'big, scary house' are waiting!' The turn of a knob.
No, don't go~!
The hell begins again, but this time, Germany will keep true to his promise, even if I don't.
Author's Note: So, I hope Italy and Germany weren't too OOC in this. If they are, my apologies, this is my first story with them. If it's a little confusing, I'm sorry for that too. In this little drabble of mine, Germany's promise and making sure he fulfills it is why Italy dies in HetaOni. This being the only time he recalls the memory is why he doesn't remember it in the rest of the series. I hope that clears up any confusion, but if you have any more questions, just ask. If you notice any silly mistakes, let me know about them and don't forget to review.