Hoozah! It's the last chapter of the fic. It's been fun; I hope you all enjoyed reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please leave a review and tell me what you thought about this little adventure with Arthur and Francis.
Disclaimer: I don't own Axis Powers: Hetalia. It rightfully belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz. I merely own the AU plot and setting. Additionally, I'm not an expert on teaching and blindness. All information stems from observation and speculation. Please do not reference.
Enjoy this last chapter!
Nihilism
"At the moment of vision, the eyes see nothing."
―William Golding, The Spire
Arthur brought Francis to the Sistine Chapel, just like he had promised. They got access to the museum and went through security, but Francis refused handicapped assistance and Arthur promised to take care of him so the security guard wouldn't have to worry. Francis scoffed at the notion, but he brushed it off. Then they entered the Chapel.
The walls towered high above them, and the roof rose into the heavens, as if it was emulating the sky but protecting the people inside from the ever-changing weather. When the two stepped inside, their heads tilted back. Arthur's gaze followed the beautiful moral on the walls, over the arches, and towards the ceiling. His breath was taken away. Images and scenes decorated every area of the chapel. He was surrounded by masterpieces, multiple depictions all joining together but were still completely separate from each other. He wanted to look at the murals and paintings more closely so he could see the techniques and renovations the chapel had gone through. He had seen the paintings before through art books and images on the Internet, but he had never seen the chapel up close, where the walls were palpable, but where his fingers couldn't touch. With a faltering breath, he took a step forward.
"Arthur? Where are you?"
Arthur looked over his shoulder at Francis. "I'm still right here, Bonnefoy."
Francis sighed, smiling and letting his shoulders relax. "Oh, good. I had thought you were already on the other side or something."
Arthur scoffed, rolling his eyes. "What? You thought that I teleported away? I can only wish. I'd hate to stay with you longer than I already need to."
"Well, who knows?" Francis laughed. "I didn't hear you walk away."
"That's because I didn't. Now, hand over your stick."
"It's a cane. Not a stick. Or a pole."
"Fine. You get what I mean. Now hand it over."
"But… Why?" Francis held out his cane. Arthur took it by where Francis' hand was, so Francis knew when to let go. "You know that that's really important, right?"
"I know, I know. I won't lose it. I promise." Then Arthur grabbed hold of Francis' hand before it fell back to his side. "You'll be fine. Trust me." Arthur began to walk forward.
Francis followed. His grip tightened. And suddenly, Arthur couldn't see the murals anymore. They all disintegrated within the walls, blurring into a beige colour of the architecture. There were no pictures of angels or God, and there certainly was no creation of Adam. All Arthur could see were walls, ceilings, and people who walked by, glancing at the two and muttering words he couldn't hear. Then they, too, disintegrated into nothing, and all he was left with were his breathing, the white cane, Francis' hand, and sounds of his and Francis' footsteps clicking against the hard floor, never quite synchronising but still accompanying each other. His step followed Francis', and Francis' followed his, each filling the gap in between the silence. They walked aimlessly, never quite leaving the Sistine Chapel but not quite looking at anything at all.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Francis murmured, his voice and hand trembling.
"It is. Just like Heaven."