Chapter 13

I'm tired right now. I want to sleep…

… And maybe this time I won't wake up.

"Wh- what do you mean he's dead? You're Alfred… right?" Canada asks, reaching forward to make sure that this man in front of him his real but the illusion stands and backs away.

"No, he was alive… But not all the time…" He mumbles. Suddenly the not-Alfred stiffens and his eyes lose what's left of their focus.

"A-Alfred?" Canada, but now he's Matthew, cries, once again trying to touch the illusion that was but wasn't his former brother.

To his surprise he is held back, and to his shock it's China's arm that blocks his path.

"China? What are you-"

"Watch."

The command his simple and the eyes hold the uncountable years of wisdom so he obeys despite the emotional turmoil inside him. He watches as his former brother's stature shortens and his hair darkens to chocolaty brown and his eyes become hazel. And suddenly the illusion isn't his brother any more.

The new boy's face is a happy one, so different from the vacancy his previous form carried.

"Hello, Misters!" This new boy speaks cheerfully in a slight, indefinable accent, evidently unaware of the moroseness in the atmosphere, "You all do seem familiar, have we ever met before?"

China locks eyes with Germany and a strange understanding passes between them.

"Alfred, I'm your-" Canada is cut off by Germany who quickly and almost roughly pulls him aside while China answers.

"No, I do not believe we have met. What's your name, boy?" China questions in a soft and friendly voice, kneeling to the boy's level.

"My name is Dexter Valdov, sir! May I ask yours?" The boy, Dexter he calls himself, grins at China.

China smiles softly back, a look of understanding on his face, "I see, my name is Wang Yao, Dexter, or rather Yao Wang in you Western tongue. This is my brother Kiku and my… friends… Matthew, Arthur, Ludwig, Feliciano, and Francis. Do they sound familiar to you?"

The boy smiles apologetically, shaking his head, "I am very sorry Mr. Yao, I don't think recognize any of you, actually. I had thought so for a second."

"Alfred- what do you-"

"Lad, don't you-"

Matthew and England are cut off by Ger- Ludwig and Francis respectively. For the moment they are all human, but that holds little meaning to a country. Yet they are not countries for this moment in time.

"Let Yao speak," Kiku casts them a sidelong glance.

"How strange," Yao continues as if nothing had happened, "I seem to remember you from some time ago. Do you live around here, Dexter?"

Dexter shakes his head, "I'm from Nevada, or rather the Nevadian Province. We could not have met before, sir. Excuse me, but I have to see Mr. Robert very soon. It was nice meeting you, Misters!"

"It was indeed," Yao's look become distant as he already fades from the conversation.

Dexter salutes Boy Scout style to the true nations before running off. Matthew and Arthur are forcibly restrained by Francis and Ludwig. Only after the boy is out of sight do they release the two other blonds. Matthew immediately spins around and punches Ludwig with all the force he could muster. Though not often used, the Canadian had formidable strength, as shown when the distinct cracking noise of the German's shoulder fills the silence left by the immortal and the shape shifter.

Now the immortal turns to the rest of the nations, focus returning to the old eyes, "You shouldn't have hit him."

"What?" Matthew sputters, rage flaring the violet eyes, "He- he- That was my- And you just-"

"Why did you let him leave?" It was Arthur who speaks now, cold anger gleaming in the green irises. The eyes of the old empire burn like the sun it had always claimed to hold. His voice his deadly calm, a tone only saved for rare occasions.

Soundlessly Ludwig- or is he Germany now?- gestures to Yao. Feliciano silently approaches and embraces him, softening the carefully blank eyes and emotionless posture.

"Well?"

Yao sighs, once again thinking that his existence had long since surpassed his time, but those thoughts were often and their actions were few, "That… I do not know how to explain this... That boy who just left, Dexter… He isn't your brother. He never was."

"What do you mean by that?" Arthur asks, crimson anger now heating the space around him. But only Japan can see and feel the harsh edges of the emotion. The personification of the island nation now crosses the floor to Matthew, a hand on his shoulder and the twin red shades of passionate outrage growing and feeding each other.

Yao chuckles and a strange mixture of soft golden and red mists form an orange. A soft shade of orange, akin to when the sun rises or sets. Kiku narrows his eyes slightly, Yao only develops that aura when reminiscing of days long past.

Infuriation spikes out from Matthew and Arthur, but before they could say anything Yao speaks again, "It seems that your brother is not dead, obviously. But I can't say that's he's alive, either… Or at least he doesn't think he is."

Harsh blue annoyance flares from Matthew, clashing with the bright crimson, "You know what? Forget it. I'm going to find Alfred. Don't you dare try and stop me."

He storms out, along with Arthur. Brothers in blood and grief.

"Ve… Ludwig? Are they angry?" Italy wonders aloud, leaning against the taller man. The peculiar yellow haze of nostalgia is returning, having been absent for some time. A tinge of happy pink could be faintly seen but Kiku still finds him unreadable.

Ludwig sighs, holding his head in the wave like violet confusion coming from him. "They are, Feliciano." To the remaining nations it was Germany who now says, "Italy and I are going to be taking our leave now. To… sort out matters…"

Yellow nostalgia, much like Italy's, covers his thoughts and Japan nods for the rest of them. They exit in a warm honey yellow trance.

"You have more to say," Francis accuses Yao. He narrows his eyes, what the Chinese man had said made sense with what he himself could figure out. But something is still missing and he isn't sure quite what.

"Indeed," Yao speaks distantly, eyes gleaming with long forgotten history, "You have personifications of your different regions, correct?"

"Oui."

"And I have my provinces and Japan had his clans and feudal domains. Now tell me, when America was still a country, did you ever meet any of his states?"

"No, but- I see," Francis bit his lip, "So are you saying-?"

"The United States of America," Yao emphasizes with his hands, "Interesting name, no?"

"But there are other countries who-"

China swiftly interrupts the Frenchman, seemingly not even hearing him speak, "You told me, once, that he had so much potential as a child. That you were so disappointed in the way he had turned out. Am I correct?"

"Well, I-"

"Am I correct?"

"Oui. Where are you going with this?"

"Now tell me, when the country America was alive, how did Alfred act?"

"He sometimes acted-"

Kiku cuts in, playing along with China's theory and knowing that political correctness held no part in this, "Alfred-san acted loud, noisy, and annoying."

"Exactly. Think carefully on this, have you ever seen either America or Alfred act with deep emotions."

France narrows his eyes, "Explain that," he said flatly, draining emotion from his voice.

"Have you ever seen him truly be in love? Have you seen him fear with his whole being? Have you seen him hate anyone at all?"

"During the Cold War he hated Russia…"

Yao smirks, a childish grin that never fit the reservation supposedly granted to his age, "But how did he act towards Russia?"

Francis's eyes widens as he realizes what China is implying. Japan answers for him, eyebrows rising and the carefully neutral mask finally breaking.

"He was loud, boisterous, irritating, provocative…"

France shook his head, how interesting, even as the country of love he could never- And it was him who links love to hate, "So it wasn't hate. So… he never felt real emotions?"

"He has," Japan mutters. The other two personifications swing around to see him. Francis gathers the faint notion that the Asians, both of them, knew more than they were currently letting on. But all countries held secrets and it wasn't and will never be his place to ask them. He himself knew the sickly sweet, almost soothing nightmares that prevented sleep in those long, lonely nights in dark hours. He never told others and never will, quietly living through the horrors on his own.

The joys of a nation.

An unspoken rule between nations is to never closely question each other. Secrets are secrets and nightmares are meant to be suffered alone.

China glances at Kiku but keeps the within the rule, "As Kiku says, Alfred did feel emotions, so we can rule that out."

"Out of what?"

Yao ignores the question, voiced by both of the other men, "Japan, do you know if America ever felt deep emotions?"

The other Asian tilts his head, pondering, "Pink and honey," he whispers, "Happiness and friendship…" Then he shakes his head, "Silver sheen, gray dome, artificial and denial." Offering no explanation to the cryptic statements he finally speaks aloud, "Alfred, or America? How troublesome…"

France, or maybe Francis sighs, a sad smile gracing his lips, "There's no difference and that's all the difference."

"Do you truly believe that?" China inquires.

France doesn't directly answer and maybe that was all the answer they needed, "Can any of us tell the difference between who we are? Are you China or are you Yao? Am I Francis or am I France? Are we immortals pretending to be human, or mortals playing at God? Or maybe a combination of both?"

"My point exactly," Yao says.

"Let us not digress," Japan breaks into the conversation, which was taking a dangerous turn to what should not be and should never be questioned, "Why ask about emotions, Yao-san?"

"Just think, even us nations, whether we be human or country, we have emotions. But America, or maybe Alfred, did not in our presence. Is that not strange?" The question is rhetoric and he continues without pause, "A mask hides a lie and a lie is a mask. You never saw his states and you've never seen past his mask. Do you remember the story I told you? Of the young nation who went insane?"

"What are you implying?" France asked.

"Maybe something similar is there. Perhaps he really is his states, or perhaps they became part of him. Fifty personifications forced into the body of yet another one would lead to too many emotions. Even by ourselves we can rarely distinguish who we are to what we stand for. That is all I can tell right now. But too many factors are missing for us to know any more. And I doubt that it is our place to know this."

They nod and silently leave. Nations were never meant to question the mysteries of life. It only made the nightmares worse and the pain stronger.

What miserable existences.

I do not own Hetalia.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Man, I've been out for a long time. This was originally two chapters, but I combined it just for you guys. Aren't you glad?
I hoped that I explained some things here... Ask me the remaining questions, but note that more explaining will happen in the next chapter. With Tony. Cuz he's awesome.

Also, I have a mission. During the New Year's I want to update all my stories and start the new stories simultaneously and I'm trying to get as many people as possible to as well. Can any one join me? Just start or update a story on New Year's day or the week of it. I'd like support, please tell as many as you can.

On a completely unrelated note, I joined wrestling! Yes, I'm a girl, and the only girl on the the team. I'm a lot stronger and heavier than I look, but most of the kids in my grade know that. Someof the guys freaked out. Currently I'm trying to get my coach to play 'I'll Make A Man Out Of You' by Mulan during practice.

I love reviews... motivation, you know?