MW: And here it is, the last installment you will ever get of The Fanseries (minus the symbolism cheat sheet, but we'll get to that later). Surprisingly, I'm less sad this time around and more… relieved? Well, I am graduating this Tuesday so I'm barely making the series deadline here. Maybe once I start playing sad piano music the end of this trilogy will hit me emotionally. I don't really know.

Although I neglected to respond to any reviews from last chapter (had to focus on this and finals), I still want to thank the people who did share their thoughts with me: Monica Honda, HimekoUchia, greydragon987, Le-awesome-me, NotSilentAnymore, and Krinos Bara. If you have any questions or complaints that you told me from the last chapter that you really want me to answer, feel free to send them into me again and I swear that I will reply to them this time for sure.

Without further ado, here's the ending.

Chapter Summary: The end.

Warnings: Strong language.

~Epilogue~

And They All Lived

"There is no real ending. It's just the place where you stop the story."

― Frank Herbert, American Writer

The Fangirl: Unknown

I opened my eyes, squinting at the blackness all around me. My brain worked sluggishly, as if every thought that came to me had to tread through a knee-deep swamp. Was my vision even working or was I just in a black room? I didn't know the answer and I didn't want to, so I lifted a heavy arm and laid it over my eyes. A light ache nested inside my chest, so careful and precise in its throbbing that I felt like I couldn't move another inch. I just wanted to lie still and fall back asleep. Maybe, when I woke up, it would go away.

I closed my eyes, feeling content with just doing that, when the memory parts of my brain finally kicked in. Flashes of what had happened flitted to my mind's eye. I gasped, jolting upright. Pain sliced through my chest, causing me to gasp. I looked down, discovering my brother's pocket watch wrapped in my hand. I took a deep breath. Did I do it? Was I in the past? I looked around, seeing only the black expanse of the Void. There was no sign of Larry or Antonio or Sayaka and Bella. It was only me, alone in this endless world.

That couldn't have been right. I was sure that I thought about when everything had started when I was turning back the knob. Did that mean everything started back here in the void? If so, where were Sayaka and Bella?

I turned in a circle, searching for their brightly colored hairs, but wincing at the movement as I went. The pain wasn't as serious or mind numbing as before, but the slightest movement caused an ache to vibrate in my ribcage. I placed a hand over the problem area and massaged circles in the sore. I only had so much time to fix everything. I had to find them before all of this was for nothing—or before Antonio or something came after me.

I gulped. Why didn't I think about that before? He had a pocket watch. He could totally chase after me and stop me before I could even think of doing anything.

Feeling agitated, I check my surroundings again. There was no road sign or anything else to reveal where I should go. The last time I was in a situation like this was when I was with Seychelles, lost and needing to find Sadiq before Himaruya took ownership of his soul. Back then, I used Sadiq's watch to guide me to the door to the Room. I didn't know if Jerry's pocket watch would give me the same results, but it was worth a shot.

I held it up like a compass, checking the direction of the chain. The infinite gold levitated limply towards the right. It wasn't strong, but it was a start. Besides, it was my only lead. What else was I going to do? Cry?

(Admittedly, that was a very tempting thought but that's beside the point).

Pushing away off of my incessant worries, I started down my path.

I never realized how empty the Void was. It takes walking through the dark landscape with no company but the lonely echoes of your footsteps to really realize how… nothing it really was. There was nothing to define each step from the rest, no landmarks to ponder over as you journeyed. There was no one but yourself—the one colored being in a world of black. A few times, I felt the swell of a scream rise up my throat, but I forced it away every time. Instead I hummed to myself songs I barely remembered, sung the few lyrics I knew, made up a few of my own, occasionally pausing the song to talk aloud to myself. I didn't have much to say beyond nervous comments of how bland the Void was, but something about hearing my voice bounce off the invisible walls and into my ears again tricked me into thinking that there was someone else here beside myself. It was comforting, I guess.

After who knows how long, I saw a white dot in the distance. I stared at it for a moment, blinking and squinting at its small shape. Was that the window to the Room? Were Sayaka and Bella in there? I felt a smile rise upon my face. A small part of me warned against getting my hopes up, reminding me of all the times I thought I knew what was going on only to discover another perpetrator entirely. Sayaka and Bella might not be on the other side of that window, but someone else I could never predict. The unexpected always seemed to barge into my life with a fist to the skull.

I picked up my pace, jogging towards the single white dot. My speed was brisk, so much so that I had to stop a few times to catch my breath, but each step brought the white dot closer and better in view. More and more the dot grew and expanded until it was the small square that I remembered. Waves of confidence crashed down upon me as I sped into a full run. The thuds of my feet matched the quickened beating of my heart perfectly until the two noises merged together into a deafening beat.

However, the closer I got the more two very familiar voices wove themselves into the noise. I listened, recognizing them as Bella and Sayaka's intense arguing. I stopped at the foot of the window. Compared to the times Larry and I got at each other's necks, they were strangely quiet. For as long I as could remember, their arguments never rose above a terse speaking level, and this was no different. I patted the air in front of me until I felt the hard surface of the black door. I leaned against it, listening to their growing debate.

"You're out of control." That was Bella.

"Control?" I could hear Sayaka rolling her eyes. "You're the one who has to be in control of every stupid little thing."

"Look, Fandom. We aren't going to be able to solve this ourselves. Why don't we make a deal—"

Shit.

"Don't you even think about it!" I banged my knuckles against the door, yelling out, "Hey, Bella! Sayaka! Don't be stupid and open this Goddamn door right now before you do something really stupid!"

For a moment, it was deafly silent and I was afraid that I was too late. I wanted to cry. I did not come all this way just for them to make their little contest and ruin everything for everyone.

The light from the white window disappeared, only to be replaced by Bella Moon. Her face was cast in shadows, but the light bearing down on her back made a ring of yellow hover around her head like a halo. I couldn't make out the exact features of her face, but I could tell just from looking that she was beyond wary and beyond confused. "Sherry?" she asked. "How did you get here?"

I lifted the pocket watch to her eyes. "Time travel wobbly stuff," I said testily. "Mind letting me in now?"

She hesitated. She turned away from the window, saying, "Nice try, Fandom, but I'm not going to fall for your tricks again."

"Hey!" I stood on my tippy toes, craning my neck to get my face into the window. My eyes barely made it, but that didn't stop me from shouting "I'm not a freaking trick" the same moment Sayaka snapped "why do you think I did this?"

Bella threw her arms into the air. "I don't know, you tell me," she said. "It's just something you'd do."

I groaned, banging my forehead against the door. "C'mon, Bella. You know me. I'm not some kind of trick," I said. "I mean—who else here knows about that tattoo you have on your back?"

Her brows scrunched together. "I don't have a tattoo," she said.

I felt another groan rise up my throat, but I swallowed it back down. Right, I was talking to the Sayaka and Bella of the past. My friend suddenly did seem to be much younger than I expected. How old did she have to be now? Fifteen? "You will when you're twenty-one and in college at Oxford," I explained.

"And how do I know I can believe you?" she asked.

This time, I handed her the watch. "Because Sayaka gave this to my brother," I said. She gawked at its shiny surface for a long moment before she took it from me. She turned it in her hands, wiping her hand across its golden front. "You gave me one like this too when I made a contract with you, but you took it away from me. I used some kind of magic thing in it to go back to now to make sure you two don't do something incredibly stupid."

Sayaka appeared at the window, grabbing the watch from Bella as she shoved her away. She ignored the blonde's offended huff as she clicked it open. "Which of your brothers did I give this too?" she asked. Her voice was significantly lighter than before and it took me a moment to realize that she was back to being twelve. Goosebumps ran down the length of my arms, making my hair stand on edge. They were both so young, yet I could feel their maturity seep into the air. It made me feel smaller and I felt my own need to slip back into my fifteen year old shoes.

I forced the thoughts out of my head. Not now. I was twenty-one years old. They may be the all-powerful beings of this world, but I knew something they didn't—the future. "Jerry did," I said, sounding solid and confident, "but you dragged Larry into this as well."

Worry raised her eyebrow. "I did?" It lingered in her voice as well.

Maybe she really does care about him, I thought to myself. I said, "let me inside and I'll explain."

Hesitancy painted Bella's features while Sayaka nudged her sister aside and opened the door. I stepped back enough to let it swing open before having to shield my eyes from the blinding light. My already thick frown somehow deepened. "Ugh, what is up with this light difference?" I asked. "I feel like I'm looking at the face of God."

"Please don't make a God joke," Bella warned, giving Sayaka a sharp look.

The girl shrugged. "Well, we are gods."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I know. Move it." They separated like the Red Sea as I plowed through them. My feet stomped on the reflective floor, though I hardly paid it any attention. A strange cocktail mixture of anxiety and excitement flowed through my veins. I felt giddy, like the control I had of this situation was palpable and nesting like a bird in my chest. But that bird pecked at my ribs, reminding me of all the ways I could screw up.

Maintaining my somber visage, I turned back to the girls and gestured at the space around me. "Can you two make like a couch or something?" I asked. "This is a bit of a long story."

They didn't make a couch. They made two—plush white piece of furniture facing each other with an equally white coffee table between. I sat at the center of one and Bella and Sayaka sat on the other. Both hugged the ends of the couch, trying to sit as far as possible from the other. I tried not to notice the gap between them. I smoothed all the insecurities from my face. Imagine you're at your internship interview, I told myself. I pictured my mustached interviewer sitting behind his plastic conference room table, scratching notes onto a clipboard, eyes judging me from behind a pair of wired glasses.

My heartbeat evened, but not by much.

"I guess I should start," I said.

"That would be a good idea," Sayaka replied.

Bella sent me a concerned look. "And everything you're going to say is true?" She asked.

I shrugged. "Why would I lie?"

She didn't answer, but I really didn't need her to. I could see her thoughts swirling in the color of her brown eyes. She still thought I was some kind of trick, or that I was going to try to take her universe away from her. She didn't trust me at all.

This wasn't going to work if she didn't trust me.

I took a deep breath and told them the story. I started with when I first woke up in Seychelles's body, explaining my adventures at Gauken Hetalia. I stopped when they asked me questions and tried to answer them as truthfully as possible. I told them about Larry and what he did, ending how we all came together in that little seaside town. I told them about their deals and about the midnights Larry and I spent sleepless in my room. I pled my case, citing Hetalia characters and myself. I ended with the pointing of a finger at the watch Sayaka held in her pale hands, saying, "I used that to bring me back here to stop all of that from happening. You may not be able to agree on anything, but I think you both agree that nothing that's happened has been good. Terrible things have happened because of it and I know you guys still have enough passion left in you to put aside your differences and do the right thing."

They were silent for a long moment, as if to make sure I was done talking.

Bella crossed her legs, regarding me with a professional look. "I understand why you're upset about all this," she said. "But sometimes you have to do horrible things for the greater good." I heart dropped into my stomach as she turned towards Sayaka. "I was going to suggest that little contest myself before she came in here. What do you think?"

Sayaka shrugged. "It seems like a good way to find out who the universe actually wants to rule everything," she said. Thin hesitancy flickered in her eyes. "But I really don't want to put Larry through all of that."

"I don't want to put Sherry through that either, but it's them verses the welfare of so many others…"

My mouth dropped. "Are you bullshitting me?" I demanded. Anger fizzed under my skin, turning my flat hands into hard fists. "You aren't thinking about the 'welfare of others,' or however you put it. All you two are thinking about is who is better than who. Pull your heads out of your asses and stop arguing with each other and start actually thinking about what's best for everyone."

Bella rolled her eyes and, even though I had seen her do that to me so many times before, I felt the overwhelming need to slap the annoyance from her face. "We are thinking about what's best," she said. "What's best is me being in control—"

Sayaka shot her a glare. "Heck no—"

I stomped my foot on the ground, gaining both of their attentions. "What's best is you two working together as a team."

"That's not going to happen," Sayaka said. "Not when she's—" She jerked her head at her sister, lowering her voice into a low hiss. "—being so difficult."

Bella placed an offended hand on her chest. She laughed hollowly. "I'm the shallow one? Don't let me get started with you-"

"I can't believe you guys." My teeth ground together as the knuckles on my hand turned white from the pressure of my fury. I wanted to ram them into something. I didn't care what as long as I could get this anger out of me. "Is your little rivalry really so great that you guys can't put it aside for one freaking minute and realize how shitty of an idea this is?"

Sayaka finally lost the cool that made her seem so inhuman to the rest of us. "Do you really think that we don't know how bad of an idea it is?" she demanded. Her voice lingered in the strange space between a low growl and fierce yell. The only times I had ever felt endangered by her was when she was an adult and flaunting all of the giveaway signs of being Himaruya. Yet, here she was: twelve years old, scrawny and made of sticks, voice pitched with the shrill note of youth. Nothing in the crease between her brows or the tight line of her practically invisible lips made her seem anything less than an angry twelve shear old girl.

Yet.

Yet I felt myself shrink away from her voice, scared not of the Himaruya hidden behind the pale face, but of the girl who possessed it. I was suddenly very aware that she had more power than I could ever hope to comprehend. She had the look of a child who could easily destroy me.

Luckily, I was spared from being ripped apart molecule by molecule and returned to ash and dust. Spared since her fury made her lash at me not with limbs, but with words. "We're not idiots, Sherry Sue! We know that Canon's idea is horrible. We know that it comes at a terrible price, but you wanna know something? It's not as terrible as the binding, controlling world that she-" Her finger aimed at Bella, causing the blond to give an offended yelp"-has to offer!"

"Don't be so dumb," Bella returned, poison leaking from her lips. "You're the one who's offering eternal chaos!"

My knees snapped as I jumped to my feet. "Why are you two even arguing about this?" I yelled. "You've been able to work together in the past, right? What is so different from now? Can't you just put your differences aside and do what's right?"

"I am trying to do what's right!" Sayaka shouted.

This time, it was Bella who sighed and restrained her emotions. "Were both trying," she amended, sounding far too tired for my comfort. She placed her hands over her face, heaving deep sighs. "We've been at this for longer than you've been alive, Sherry. I don't expect you to understand how strained our previous truce was. To put it simply: we're just too different to continue functioning like this. This rivalry has to end now."

I started to open my mouth, thinking that I had to have some sort of retort, only to realize that I was drawing a blank. A part of my head, the part that liked to be sensible, reminded me of the gap between Bella and me. Before all of this shit, she and I were friends. Yes, friends, but there was always something keeping us apart. She was academically, socially, and athletically gifted. I lived on my art alone. She matured while I stayed lost in the meadows of childhood. I was the fangirl and she was my canon. She and I were damned to stay on our own two ends of the spectrum forever.

I closed my mouth and, with nothing more to say, hanged my head and admitted silent defeat.

Sayaka released a tense breath. "See? Now are you going to let us go through with our plan?"

No, I said in my head. I was not ready to give up just yet. There had to be a way.

But they took my silence for an agreement. "So are we going to do fifteen Hetalia characters like she said, or do we want to shorten it?" Sayaka asked.

I lifted my head.

There were certain things that were meant to stay apart like water and oil. I won't try to argue that. But there always were exceptions.

Larry and Jerry were fated to be the black to the other's white. Yet, they are together. They bite and fight but, even if they did not realize it themselves, they would die for each other. It was in the sacrifice Jerry made and Larry's refusal to let him go through with it. It was in the sheer fact that the very thought of the other's betrayal ripped an unrepairable, emotional scar into their chests. They were forever separated by their different opinions and personalities, but there was still a link between them. A link that, with enough love and apologies, can bring them back to being brothers.

Bella and Sayaka were sisters for a reasons. The Japanese immigrant and the Caucasian American were made to be stepsisters for the same reasons Sayaka and Larry's romance was the "realest thing in the universe." It meant something in a strange satirical way. They were bound by the same link that unites Larry and Jerry. I only needed to find it.

"I'm not done yet."

Below and Sayaka looked up at me, giving equally exasperated looks. "God, why are you so gosh darn stubborn?" Bella asked. "Give up. You are the fangirl. There is nothing you can do."

The side of me, the side that was not sensible and liked to spend her days indulging in anime- the side that squeals over OTPs, who will fight Seychelles for ruining 'FrUk,' who would rather make 'who?' jokes instead of saving a soul- a very loud side of me that I had not listen to for years, not since I untacked the anime posters from my walls -wailed in the back of my head.

I was the fangirl.

And, despite the crap backing the title, there were a few quirks.

I sat back down, gracing the girls with a scheming smile. "I'm not done yet," I said. They balked, looking unnerved. For the first time in a long time, I felt powerful. They needed the fangirl, the fanboy, and the hater not out of choice, but because they had to. Because the three of us had something they needed. That something was what they needed to make their little game work and it was something I could use to end it before it could begin.

I looked into Bella's eyes and saw the worry swirl in them. She regarded me with the same look an employee would give his boss. The girl who built everything to be controlled looked at me like I could control her.

Because I could.

I crossed my legs.

Jerry was the fanboy- but more specifically, the casual fan. It never mattered to him which side was chosen as long as he got what he wanted from the fandom and canon.

I clasped my hands on my lap.

Larry is the hater, and an irrational one at that. But he's the one who critiques, who curbs back the reign of the fandom and sees through the facade of the canon. They need him to bring some sense to their crazy world.

I allowed a smile.

And I am the fangirl. I am not on their spectrum of fandom freedom and canon confines. I am the spectrum. Fangirls have and always will decide on which parts of the canon to ignore and what sectors of the fandom to make law. Larry and Jerry could pull me back, but I was here before either of them. I was in the ultimate control.

"You two aren't going to do the contest," I said. "I'll be the balance between you two."

They looked at me as if I was crazy. "That's impossible," Bella started, but I cut her off before she could say anything more.

"Give me one good reason why I can't."

"You're not a 'balance' sort of person," Sayaka said. "You're the fangirl. You're part of the reason why Canon and I can't ever be at peace."

I shrugged. "I'm not trying g to give you guys eternal peace or whatever the hell you're aiming for. I'm here to tell you to suck it up."

Bell shook her head. "You're nuts."

I hummed. "Maybe, but look at precedent. Even if the canon is supreme, fangirls like me still get to decide which parts to over exaggerate in fanfictions and which parts to ignore entirely. If the fandom is more active, there will still be the need to fall back onto the canon for more fuel. The fandom cannot live without the canon and the canon cannot function without causing a fandom. You both are living in a cycle that will never go away. Fangirls like me only decide how it's done."

"And you want to decide for us?" Sayaka asked, sounding caught in the confines of disbelief.

"Well, I am the fangirl," I said.

Bella seemed to consider it for a moment. I saw the cogs in her head moved very slowly, ask if to pick apart my argument bit by bit. For a moment I couldn't help but to wonder what would I do if I couldn't convince them to go along with everything and, even if I somehow managed to get the chance, what kind of decisions I would have to make. I gulped. What was I getting myself into?

Bella made a face before releasing a resigned sigh. "I can't believe it," she muttered to herself. She looked me in the eye. "I think you deserve the chance." I swallowed, straining a happy look. Deep inside, I was screaming. What if I couldn't do this? What if I did a bad job?

I was almost hoping that Sayaka would turn me down when she relented and nodded her head. "Well, you are the fangirl."

Right. I was the fangirl. I could do this.

I leaned back in the couch, uncrossing my legs and undoing the knots of my doubts. I could do this.

Maybe.

"Sherry." Bella leaned forward, her young face aged with seriousness. "If we let you do this, your timeline will end. Did anyone ever explain to you how time works?"

The graphs Antonio drew on the white board rose to my mind's eye- the branches extending from one line, ending when the timeline ends. When I nodded, Bella explained, "Everything from this point onward is going to be different. I know that you want to prevent everything from happening, but are you sure you're willing to let go of everything you achieved so far?"

I thought of my internship with Disney, my father coming home, my admission to CalArts. None of those things were linked to my adventure in Hetalia, but there was one thing that was: Larry. He changed for the better because of Hetalia and I was sure that, once their tempers cooled, his relationship with Jerry was going to improve. Still, I wasn't sure what was going to happen once Sadiq and Seychelles and Ari never happened.

But at the same time, I was doing this for Sadiq and Seychelles and Ari. I could remake the universe into something that was fair for them. No more heterophobia or Agatha. It would just be them living their happy lives the way it was supposed to be.

"If you want, I can make sure you never forget any of this," Sayaka offered.

Bella hushed her. "Fandom, do you realize how bad of an idea that is?"

"Don't you see how good of an idea it is?"

A plan pieced itself together in my head and, without putting too much thought into it, I leapt at the chance. "I like it," I said. "I mean- you two are going to need me to fix some more arguments in the future. If I remember all of this, you wouldn't have to re-explain things to me over and over again."

Bella's brows jumped up her forehead. "You're willing to make this a lifelong commitment?"

I must have picked up something from Larry since this was working all too well. "Only if Larry and Jerry can as well."

Bella stared at me for a long moment. Sayaka drummed her fingers of her knee. Finally, Bella let her shoulders drop. "You're nothing like the fifteen year old I know," she said.

A bit of hope sparked in my chest. "Is that a yes?"

The annoyed look on her face told me enough: this was not charity. She really did not want to do this for me. If she had things her way, I would already be back at home with no memory of this ever happening. Still, I did not argue when she solemnly nodded her head. "I think so." She scowled and crossed her arms. "Any other demands you would like to make?"

I thought about it for a moment, then grinned. "Can I have five minutes to talk to Sadiq?"

Sayaka snorted while her sister's irritation increased. "Why?"

I made an uncommitted noise. "There's a few things I need to sort out before I go."

Again, Bella looked more than ready to object but Sayaka scooted to her side. "I think it'll be fine," she said, regarding the blond with a polite stare. "After all, he'll forget everything once it's all done." She turned towards me. "Why don't your brothers get a chance to talk to someone as well, since they need to take care of unfinished business and everything as well? You'd agree that it's only fair, right Canon?"

Bella's brows were furrowed so deeply that I thought that there were going to leave permanent lines in her forehead. "Completely fair," she growled.

It was a loose and hazy victory, but I wasn't one to argue.

I moved to the edge of the couch, extending my hand. "Great, it's a deal. Let's shake on it."

We did, and their hands felt strangely cold in mine. Cold as if there was no life in them, like the touch of my palms could somehow flush their skin with enough warmth to make them seem somewhat tangible. It sent goosebumps up my arms. It drained me of the smug curls of my smile. Feeling the frown around my mouth, I slinked by into my seat. I cleared my throat. "So," I started. "Let's negotiate."

No one likes the fangirl, true story. You should do everything and anything possible to avoid getting the title. It's like being a teacher: you get a lot of crap for doing a lot of great stuff and the pay is shit. Some part of me thought that my knowledge of the Hetalia universe would somehow make sorting Bella and Sayaka's problems easy, but nothing could have prepared me for their questions. I won't bore you with the details, but I changed things. Things I did not ever want to touch with a ten-foot pole.

Here's another fact—fangirls are incredibly indecisive, or maybe that's just me. It might just be me being an idiot. Either way, there were too many places where I didn't know what to think. Those stupid sticky areas that clung to my skin like goo, demanding to be answered, stayed with me long after I rushed out a verdict and, even after my chance to change it has long past, I still found myself reconsidering.

But that was behind me for now.

Now I shook hands with Bella and Sayaka one more time, promising to help them with their next strife. They swore to do their bests to uphold my decisions. I did not know what I would do if they turned against each other or me. I prayed that I never had to.

They dissolved into the air like mist in the morning sun. But while this sun took away the faces of my brother's ex-girlfriend and my ex-best friend—my ex-confident, co-captain, doppelgänger, other half—it gave me back someone just as important.

Sadiq blinked as he appeared in front of me. Any injury he could have received in his fight against Antonio was gone. He stood in his classic olive jacket, bronze skin of his jaw decked with a four o'clock shadow, gold eyes regarding me with some mixture of confusion and awe. "Sherry?" His step forward was as delicate as his voice. The sneakers that peeked from under the curtain of his baggy jeans scuffed the ground. "Is that you?"

I found myself smiling as I nodded. A part of me remembered me saying that I only wanted five minutes with him. I wanted to smack myself. I wanted a hundred more years with him, if only to explain to him all of the changes I had made. I wanted to tell him about what was in store for him and Ari and Poland and Switzerland and Seychelles.

But I couldn't. Time was escaping me.

So I hugged him instead, squeezing his middle as hard as I could. His arms found their way around my frame and his face buried itself in my mane of hair. "I fixed it," I told him. "Everything's okay now. I think I fixed it."

He tightened his hold. "How did you defeat those jackasses?" he asked, lips brushing my scalp in a light kiss. He sounded too calm for someone whose muscles were tensing as if he was on high alert.

For a moment, I considered telling him everything about the deal. Where was the harm? He was going to forget everything anyways. Then again, he had five minutes left of remembering Sherry Sue. In five minutes his entire history would be rewritten, myself omitted. After then, it wouldn't matter if I neglected to tell him.

I was going to be the only one who would remember this. Right now was time for me to have all of the questions raging in my head to finally be silenced.

Five minutes to put myself at ease forever.

I only had five minutes. Let me spend them the way I wanted to.

So I hugged him and stayed silent. The question of how I loved him—father or lover—no longer burned in my chest. It laid like died out embers in a quiet fireplace. I thought about asking him to tell me goodbye, but I didn't want him to question what was happening too much. If I were to tell him goodbye, I wanted it to be on my terms.

So I was quiet for a long while.

Towards the end of our five minutes, I lifted my head to look him in the eye. I could have gotten lost in those lovely irises. My hand itched to trace over the wrinkles around his eyes, or to at least draw them, but I held myself back. Instead, I smiled and asked, "Do you remember our deal when we first met?"

He made a face. "Which one?"

"The one with the shea butter."

I saw something break on his face, but he tried not to show it. He strained a smile, looking away from me and staring at the far distance. "You really haven't googled that yet?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I like it when people keep their promises."

He took a deep breath. "I guess you…" He sealed his mouth. I watched him chew over his words for a few moments, reconsidering his thoughts. He flickered between a smile and a frown before deciding on something in the middle. "I guess you deserve it," he said at last. His hands grasped my shoulders as he leaned down and kissed my forehead. He began to lose his form—skin lost its temperature, his body transparent, his voice grew softer. If he noticed his fading away, he didn't show it. "Shea butter is butter made from shea nuts."

I waited a moment for him to say more. When he didn't, I nodded. "Oh, I see…" I trailed off.

And scowled.

"What's shea nuts?" I demanded.

But he was already evaporating and, when I blinked, he was gone.

There were no last minute mouthing of words or regretful visages. In fact, I could have sworn he was laughing at me as he disappeared.

I stared at the place he once was as I felt my own tangibility chip away. For a moment I wondered if I should have asked him other questions, or if there were other people I should have talked to instead. I could have hugged Ari, chatted with Seychelles, thanked France. I even could have demanded Bella be the one to stand across from me and honestly tell me what I was supposed to do now. But I chose Sadiq and now all traces of Sherry Sue was being wiped from this universe.

I closed my eyes.

From now on, Hetalia would forget me but I would remember it.

Me and that anime I watched when I was a teenager were now forever intertwined. Parts of my life were to be dedicated to keeping the peace between its Canon and Fandom. I was to ensure that everything in it was perfect while never returning to it myself.

I made a sound that was somewhere between laughing and crying.

This sucked. This really sucked, but I chose it. Divine destiny or not, I chose to be the fangirl. I chose this fate. The only thing left to do was embrace it, learn from it, enjoy it while I can.

Something similar to content—a sad kind of acceptance—bloomed in my chest. Smiling, I relaxed as I disappeared for once and for all and enjoyed that last time I would ever feel that sensation of infinitely falling

and falling

and falling

and falling

a

n

d

. . .

The Fanboy: Saturday

A small yelp left my mouth as I jumped and kicked a foot out. It hit the coffee table, disturbing the board game we had been playing. I braced myself, expecting the other players to yell at me for ruining the game, but they too gave their own screams and lashed at the innocent air. Jerry's hands grasped his arm rests, glasses sitting askew on his face. Sherry's hand grasped her heart as her chest heaved up and down in fright.

We all stared at each other.

A cat I wasn't sure the name of meowed at my feet before rubbing its furred back across my shin.

I ignored it, instead focusing on the displaced pieces of our board game. Colorful monopoly money laid shrewd about our feet like autumn leaves, complimented by the occasional dice or silver game piece. The board was half-folded and hanging half way off the table. Strange—I didn't remember wanting to play this. I hate board games. I couldn't remember Jerry or Sherry begging me to join them either. I could only remember a world of white and the stoic face of…

Oh.

Oh no.

Feeling a jolt in my heartbeat, I looked down at my arm to discover that it was no longer broken. In fact, there were no signs of fighting anywhere in our living room. No blood, no nothing. I touched my face, making sure that I was really there. Maybe I was dreaming. I licked my hand and tasted the faint trace of salt. No, I was awake.

If this was real, then what happened?

Sherry grimaced, placing a hand on the side of her head. "Are you two alright?" she asked. "Did Bella and Sayaka screw anything up?"

I tried to laugh, but it sounded strained. "Are we including my unbroken arm or was that obvious?" I demanded.

Sherry frowned. "Are you hysterical?" she asked.

I laughed again, this time accidentally shooting my legs out again. The board finally fell off the table, landing on the cat. It shrieked, dashing across the floor and lodging its claws into Jerry's calves. He yelped in pain as I screeched, "What do you mean hysterical? You're the hysterical one!"

"Can we not argue this right now?" Jerry demanded. He bent forward, gently unlatching the claws from his meat. He shot Sherry a desperate look. "America said you did something," he said. "Back there. He said you changed everything."

I watched her shoulders tensed as a strangely resigned look consumed her features. She crossed her legs, rustling the toy money in the process. "It's hard to really explain," she said. She looked down to the side. "I used your watch to go back in time and make sure that all of this never happened."

I blinked, trying to understand what she was saying. All of it never happened? The WAR, Liechtenstein and Gilbert, that café by the snowy docks—none of that ever happened? "Are you serious?" I asked.

She nodded.

My mouth opened and close. "Then how come we remember everything?" I asked.

Her shoulders rose and fell in a hesitant shrug. "I asked them to not touch our memories," she explained. "I figured that there had to be something out there you didn't want to forget about, even if there are some horrible things to go with it."

That explained it. When I focused hard enough, my days on the blue seas swarmed my vision with the intensity of a fresh memory. But that was only when I tried. Without the effort, I remembered the past six years of my life as being notably normal. I didn't train myself for battle. I never had the need to ever date my best friend, Sayaka. I was paranoid of Dad's return, not Himaruya's. I was unquestionably, unremarkably sane. Hetalia never happened. If it never happened, then it meant that I never did anything horrible. I was guiltless and free from the crimes of my old life.

I placed my hands over my face, hunching into my sweaty palms. I smelt the gross scent of my drenched skin, not blood. I didn't know whether I should laugh or cry.

So I did both.

"Larry?" I felt Sherry's hand on my shoulder as I choked on my hitched voice. Snot leaked from my nose as tears made my eyes blood shot. When my crying and laughing turned into full on sobs, I felt her warm arms wrap around my body. I grabbed her, fisting the back of her tank top, sobbing into the crook of her neck. A second pair of hands—Jerry's—patted my back. He was repeating something about being safe, about everything being alright, but I did not hear him. Instead, his words permeated through my skin and soothed me on the inside.

I did not know how long I sat there wailing like a child, but it felt like a long time. It took time for Jerry and Sherry's comfort to hit me, but when it did it pierced me like a bullet. None of the awful things had happened. I had the chance to avoid repeating that past and make things better.

"How you doing?" Jerry asked.

I didn't know. Every emotion in the world was swirling in the cavity of my chest, each one demanding my full attention. On one hand, I wanted to continue crying and mourning the life I had lost. But I also wanted to grab his face and kiss his cheeks with happiness.

I did something in the middle. I lifted my head, sniffling as I strained a smile. "Better," I croaked. "Thank you."

I dragged my arm across my nose as I thought back to what happed in this new timeline. Dad was still coming home and Jerry wanted us to have dinner with his boyfriend. I remembered there being a fight, though it was not as serious as the old one. Here, I didn't have any impulses to pull out knives. Along the way of our arguing, we agreed to disagree and Sherry dragged us into this game.

I gently pushed said girl away and started to clean up the mess my panic had made. My brown and white cat meowed at my feet before rubbing its soft fur against my leg. I reached down and picked it up. I held it close to my chest, rubbing my fingers on its head. "So," I started. Sherry and Jerry looked at me expectantly. "Is the dinner going to be formal or causal dress?"

Jerry looked ready to cry. His hand went over his mouth and, in a moment of unyielding emotion, sprung towards me. His arms wrapped themselves around my neck in a crushing embrace. He didn't cry, but his chest trembled with the need to. I ignored my cat's protesting meows in favor of holding him back. Sherry made a relieved noise before jumping in and joining our embrace.

We stayed like that for a long time, unmoving until we heard the car pull into the driveway and Dad came home.

It took a week for any of us to ever mention Hetalia again. Anyone would have figured that ignoring such a prominent part of our lives would have been difficult, but once we remembered that this timeline's Sayaka and Bella had moved away nine years ago, ignorance became second nature. Sherry, Jerry, and I moved like machines across the house, doing what we usually did. I woke up in the mornings, went to my part-time job, and returned home like a normal student. It was too easy to pretend that none of it ever happened.

Of course, it meant that Jerry had to be the one to break the silent truce.

"Who did you talk to?" he asked me one night. We were both in the habit of staying up late—not because of nightmare plagues, but the simple insomnia that every young adult had. He was reading. I was pretending to write, but was really just staring at the blinking cursor with no inspiration to type. When I made a questioning noise, Jerry pulled his earbuds out of his ears. "Back there, I mean. Before we left Hetalia. Who did you talk to?"

I felt my mouth tighten. I stared at the white ceiling of our bedroom and the ceiling fan spinning lazily above me. I remembered standing in the white room, alone, hearing a voice ask me who I wanted to give a last few words to. I remembered taking a moment to consider giving Liechtenstein or Lars my thanks, or saying goodbye to Gilbert. I even considered asking for Alfred or Antonio and just spending the five minutes beating the shit out of them. Instead, in a fit of hotheaded rage, I refused the offer. "Just let me go home," I had spat.

My throat cleared and I felt myself begin to tell Jerry about my verdict. I wanted to tell him about how angry I was at the universe, how the very thought of a goodbye to even the greatest people I had ever met made me want to scream and how I still didn't regret not saying goodbye even though I really do care about Liechtenstein and Lars and all of the other friends I had made.

Instead, I lied.

"I don't remember."

The air between us was silent as Jerry waited for me to say more. When I didn't, he nodded and returned to his book. "Okay then," he muttered. "Tell me when you're ready."

At the time, I was relieved. He was willing to take my hand and pull me through the rut I was in. Something about being home and in Dad's presence and the total inevitability of it all made everything somewhat better, but a part of me still hurt. I was content with doing what I usually did and ignore it, but some part of me wanted to hold Jerry to that offer. I wanted to tell him that deep down, beneath my apathy, I really did want to talk.

But it was hard to talk to a guy and a girl who seemed to have made instant recoveries. Granted, Sherry was a little more reserved now but that was the price of maturing. (Truth be told, I liked her obnoxiousness better).

So I feigned apathy all through college.

Or, at least, I tried to.

While Sherry got a job storyboarding for Cartoon Network, I lost all ability to write. The words no longer worked for me. My muse refused to tell me stories. Writing, the art I used to crave, was now painful to the touch. When I came home from my east coast college for Christmas, I tried to explain to Dad why my usually high grades were dangerously low. "I just can't bring myself to write or do anything anymore," I said. We sat in the arm chairs at the base of the Christmas tree. Jerry and Mom were cooking in the kitchen. Sherry was still in Burbank, unable to afford the fare back to Northern California. "It just… I feel like it just doesn't matter to me."

The lights on the tree were reflected on his glasses. A few months prior he had cut his long orange curls in favor of cropped hair. Gray streaked his curls. He looked older, but he would kill me if he ever heard me say that about him. He balanced his chin on his hand, observing me carefully. "You're a smart kid, Larry. You'll get it eventually. And people grow out of their hobbies sometimes. Writing may just not be your thing anymore," he said. "Maybe you should have taken a skip year instead of jumping right into your classes."

Later, when the spring sunlight melted the frost on our lawn and I stood on the porch with boxes of my belongings, Dad gave a relenting sigh. "Maybe college just isn't your thing," he said.

It took two years for me to enroll again, though instead of a big name private university, it was community college. After my return home, I had gotten a job at the local daycare center. I figured that it was going to be temporary, that I would find some new interest to drive my career, but I ended up realizing that I liked children a lot. I toyed around with the idea of starting my own daycare until I remembered how much I liked high school. So I returned to college and got my degree in teaching and English literature.

Today, you can find me teaching at my old high school. The classes I once sat through bored I now teach with excitement. I can't come up with any of my own ideas anymore, but I can still teach the ideas of others. I like my students and they like me. Sometimes, before class starts, I talk to them about my life before teaching. I tell them that Sherry works in cartoons, that the popular one about the girl and her magic pocket watch is her creation. I tell them that Jerry's starting a second restaurant, this time on the busy streets in New York. I tell them that it's been a long time since I last saw them in person, but we talk on the phone frequently.

One time, while spinning a globe I borrowed from my coworker in the history department, I asked them if any of them watch anime. A few dared to raise their hands, but there were others whose eyes lit up with familiarity. "Have any of you watched Hetalia?" I asked. Only one girl did, explaining to a friend that it was a rather old one and not many people watch it anymore. "Well I like it," I said. She asked me what my favorite parts were. I told her I didn't know.

Beyond that, I make sure to never mention Hetalia to anyone.

But sometimes, when I stand in front of my students or alone at the supermarket, I feel like they suspect what happened. Sometimes I even find myself checking my skin to make sure my past isn't branded on me like a tattoo. I know that this world is only the flipside ofa coin that isn't really—for lack of better words—real. Sayaka said that this world was only the product of a single person's mind. I may be one of the "realest" things in existence, but what if my students aren't? What if they are the NPCs that haunt this virtual world that some lonely author dictates for his own pleasure?

I always want to call Sayaka up and ask her about it, but she seems to have disappeared off the face of the planet. Not even Sherry knows were her step-sister ran off to.

Instead, I tell my worries to the one person who will listen.

Sherry gives the same attention she gives her art. Even with deadlines looming over her shoulders, her children running around her feet, and worries of paying taxes and bills, she still makes time to listen to my thoughts. Every time she gives me the same sad smile and reply—"I don't know, Lar. But this is the only life we've got. I'd rather focus on living it than wondering if it's legitimate or not." Nothing about her advice is gentle or soothing, but it's sheer logic in its bluntest form. I can't argue with logic.

In retrospect, this ending is a little anti-climactic. Our enemy has been defeated, we are all doing fine, and, beyond the occasional complication, life is treating all three of us fairly well. I can say with complete honesty that I am living the fairytale happily ever after. I once heard that heroes tend to be depressed at the end of their story since civilian life is boring in comparison to the adventures they once had. That may be true for some people, but not me. I like boring. It's safe and predictable. After so many twists and turns, a straight road is exactly what I need.

Endings should be (for lack of better words) at the end of everything. I'm not sure where my story will end—it can be placed at my death, or maybe when I hugged my siblings at the return to our world for the last time. Either option is viable, and I invite you to choose the one you like.

But for me, I like to think the ending was a few years back at Jerry's wedding.

I spent the evening performing my duties as best man while dodging my relatives and their questions for my dating life. (I was tired of having to explain that my partner, a teacher in the special needs department, and I do not feel the need to ever get married so she and I will not ever be having a wedding). When everything ended and the party raged on, I was seated at the table at the corner of the ballroom. Jerry and his husband were still dancing, though this time with my nephews trying to break dance next to them. My partner was talking her mouth off to Sherry's husband—a producer working at the same studio as Sherry—about the importance of representation in media.

I sipped my wine, watching the orange and brown curls of my nephews bounce as they laughed at each other. Even though they were two years apart, they seemed like the best of friends. I wanted to hold their shoulders and make them promise to be best friends forever. "Don't be as hateful as your Uncle Larry," I wanted to say.

The chair next to me screeched on the floor as Sherry slid it out from under the table. "Enjoying the wine?" she asked as she sat down. Like the rest of us, she looked older. Her lips seemed thinner and her skin a little less bright. But her curls maintained their youthful bounce and I think she's happy with that alone. "Why aren't you dancing with Maria?"

I shrugged, nodding to her husband. "She's talking to Jared about the whole representation thing," I explained.

Her transparent brow quirked. "Really? I told her that I'm going to incorporate it into my next show."

I gave another shrug. "You know Maria. She's persistent."

Sherry laughed, leaning over to nudge my shoulder with a fat fist. "She's got you trained, hasn't she?"

I couldn't help but to chuckle. "You know what it's like."

Sherry looked down at her purple dress, then her hands, then back at me. "Larry, there's something I need to tell you."

My insides turned cold. I stared at her for a long moment, watching the hesitance dance across her features. She had the same look on her face when she told me about her television show pitches and her engagement to Jared. It was the same face, but this time it felt different. I felt like I had slipped into a skin I had not worn in many, many years. I placed my wine on the table and tried to gather my composure. "What is it?"

"Hey!" Jerry waved to us from the dance floor, a large grin on his face as he tried to push his glasses back up his nose while carrying one of the nephews on his back. "Get over here and dance, you party poopers!"

"Just a minute!" Sherry yelled back. She strained a smile at him, for his sake, but let me see her frown. Her fingers toyed with a wayward curl. She took a deep breath. "I want to talk to you about back then."

All air left me.

Oh.

We were talking about it now.

"There's something about back then that I never told you about," she said. "It doesn't really affect you, but I've been thinking about it recently and I think you and Jerry deserve the right to know about it. So I'll tell you, but only if you want me to."

For the first time in many years, I looked back—really looked back—on that alternate timeline. It had been awhile since I focused so intently on my second set of memories. I remembered how they once were bright and vivid like a rolling movie. Now they were blurred and scattered, like my brain had lost pieces of it throughout the years. I knew that hearing what Sherry would have to say would bring up more feelings and issues I could not deal with. I couldn't deal with them in college, how could I cope with them now?

So I shook my head. "I'd rather not," I said. I watched Sherry make a noise of understanding and, for once in my life, her face matched it. I downed the last of my wine before rising to join my nephews and brother with a laugh.

Sherry never brought it up again and I never asked her to.

There are somethings, I think, that should stay lost in time.

~End of The Fanseries~

MW: This ending has been three years, one month, and twenty days in the making. In my opinion, this is the only way I could have ended the series while being truthful and fair to both the characters and the meaning of the work as a whole. That being said, you guys are the readers of three years, one month, and twenty days' worth of work. This may not be the ending you have been hoping for. I can see while this might be unsatisfying, but in my humble opinion, it's what needed to happen.

As we all know, the symbolism cheat sheet is coming next. Along with it, I will be answering any questions you may have about this series. It can be about the story, the characters, my writing process, or even questions about myself. Stick them in a review or PM if you want them to be featured in the symbolism cheat sheet. If your question feels like it's going to eat you up on the inside until you get an answer, feel free to go to my blog and leave an ask. I answer all my asks the moment I see them.

Okay, I think that's about it. I'll put my acknowledgements in the cheat sheet. See you there!

No Notes

Thank you for reading! Remember to drop in your questions! Good luck on finals!