Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

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Francis was walking towards the platform. It was Monday, the day his friends would arrive, and he was so excited. Gilbert had messaged him that they would be here soon (he didn't mention when, though, le salaud) and that he should be ready. Francis just quickly donned his light blue dress shirt and a pair of matching pants. He also didn't forget to wear his mentor's trench coat. It was his most precious thing after the necklace his mother gave him a night before the accident. He had bid a quick goodbye to his landlady who had been a second mother to him ever since he rented an apartment there. Thankfully, he hadn't forgotten to feed his cat, Lafayette, before he locked the door.

He jovially walked towards the front bench and sat there. Francis glanced at a nearby clock; four o'clock in the afternoon. He decided to wait there. Beside him was an elderly woman with a crutch resting on her side. Francis noticed the woman and gave her a warm smile. "Bonjour, Madame," he greeted.

The elderly woman turned at him, and she smiled. "Ah, hello there, young man," she greeted back.

"How was your day?" Francis asked.

"It was fine, thank you," the woman nodded. "Are you here waiting for a train?" she then asked.

"Ah, non. I'm waiting for friends of mine, actually," Francis answered with a smile.

The woman nodded. "Oh, your friends," she murmured. "Yes, young people should have many friends, so they won't be alone. Aren't you agree, son?"

Francis chuckled. "Bien sûr, Madame," he replied. "And what about you? Are you here for your train?" he asked back.

"Ah, yes," the woman replied, nodding. "I'm going home after visiting my children and grandchildren. They live here."

"Ah..." Francis nodded slowly. "And you're alone? Is your husband at home?"

"Yes. My husband paid my train ticket, and he can't leave our gardens," she replied. "He was afraid if someone would steal our vegetables."

Francis hummed.

"Tell me about your friends, son," the woman said suddenly.

Francis blinked at the sudden request, then laughed. "Well, there's nothing special about them, actually," he said. "Their names are Antonio and Gilbert. Antonio lives in Spain, while Gilbert lives in Germany with his family. I myself came from France. Antonio is the only son in his family, the same as I, while Gilbert has a little brother who studies here, at 'H' College. I know his brother as well as I know Gilbert. Antonio is cheery and a kind-hearted guy, while Gilbert is so much different than him. Gilbert is quite, err, wild, if I do say so myself. We've been friends ever since we were children, so we're practically inseparable."

The woman giggled. "It seems your life is full of color with your friends around," she said.

The Frenchman chuckled. "Ah, not really. Sometimes Antonio can be so annoying and Gilbert can be too wild for my liking," he muttered. "Gilbert always claims himself 'the King of Awesome' or something like that. Whenever Gilbert and I argue, Antonio would always be siding with me at the worst time possible, so Gilbert would always do something stupid in front of public. And Antonio would blindly follow him!" Francis sighed. "It's like I'm living with two naughty boys."

"Well, having the weirdest friends has its perks," the old woman smiled gently.

Francis chuckled. "I guess you're right."

Suddenly, a group of girls passed them by. They noticed Francis there, and Francis gave them a seductive smile and a wink. The girls giggled shyly as they walked on towards the station entrance, whispering to each other as they gave Francis another shy glance.

Francis looked at the girls through his shoulder, chuckling, before returning to chat with the elderly woman beside him.

Time flew by, and the elderly woman had already gone home with her train, leaving Francis alone with his thoughts. It was almost six in the evening, and Francis was still sitting on his bench, lazily staring at one passenger to another, bored beyond comprehension. Francis heaved a sigh, leaning on the bench. He checked his watch; five fifty seven. Three minutes until evening.

Inside, Francis cursed Gilbert for not mentioning when they would arrive specifically. But when he thought of it again, Francis should have asked. And he left his phone in his apartment. He sighed again. So those bastards wanted to play prank on him by tricking him to arrive early at the station and making him wait for them? Francis scowled. Well, if that was their plan, then they had succeeded. If by six they still hadn't arrived, Francis would go home and send cursing messages to Gilbert. The potato bastard deserved it. They had made him waste his precious time. And Lafayette had a nasty habit of making a mess of his bedroom when Francis was gone, so Gilbert should really pay for making him leave Lafayette alone in his apartment.

It was already evening, but more passengers came in the station, waiting for their trains. The platform was full, though the passengers weren't jostling. Francis checked his watch again; six o'clock. So far, there was no sign of Antonio and Gilbert being in the trains that had come and gone. Francis was annoyed. Lafayette might have destroyed his bedroom by now. Well, since they might not be here soon, Francis might as well go home to his apartment, fetch his phone, and send cursing messages to Gilbert for making him wait in the station for two hours.

He was about to stand up and leave the station, when suddenly screams were heard from the end of the platform. A loud boom and a sound of metal clashing against metal were heard, echoing through the station. The screams became louder, desperate, terrorized. The loud scraping sound of metal against metal echoed louder.

Francis was alarmed at the loud sounds. Because the platform was full of standing passengers, Francis was forced to stand up to see what was going on.

It might have been his biggest mistake, for doing so had costed his life.

He saw a large train over the heads of the passengers glided so fast, trampling poor souls on its way. Passengers screamed in terror, running here and there to escape the train's deadly path, like a bunch of mice trapped inside a cage with their predator inside. The train glided straight towards Francis, and for that one second, Francis could not move his legs. His brain told him to run, but his legs fell asleep on him. All he could do in that one second was watching the train immediately glided over him, shouts of other passengers that told him to escape its path fell on deaf ears.

The last thing Francis could remember was the train's headlight that shone his whole frigid body and his horror face.

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Arthur jolted awake. He sat on his futon, catching his breath as if he was just doing a marathon. Sweat rolled down his temple to his neck, wetting his shirt. He rubbed his face with his hands, attempting to calm his nerves down.

What the bloody hell was that? Why did he dream about Francis? And the train—what the bloody hell was that supposed to mean? How did the bloody train just suddenly glide over Francis and—

Arthur gasped. He could still remember the dream vividly. Francis was there, and other passengers noticed his presence. He talked to an elderly woman. He gave a seductive smile and a wink to a group of girls passing by, and the girls giggled shyly. Some even shouted at him to get away from the train when the accident happened. Unlike now, when nobody even gave Francis any glance at all. And the train that Arthur just dreamt; the train that stumbled into the platform and killed everyone in its path, and Francis was there, standing before the train...

That was how Francis died.

Arthur gripped his blonde hair. "Bloody fucking hell..." he cursed under his breath.

It was three twenty five in the morning.

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A/N:

I haven't forgotten! I just don't have time! School projects and whatnot, and those random tests that teachers gave us; they give me headache... But here we are! I'm still alive, folks!

My bro brought me an RPG game, called Undertale. We played, and I just suddenly hooked. I can't believe I just suddenly move from Hetalia to Undertale this fast. So if my updates are slow, please forgive me... I have tons of other Hetalia fanfics that haven't finished yet (still in my PC), but my only debt in Hetalia fandom is this fic, so I guess there's nothing to... worry? School is a jerk, tho.

So, give me your thoughts about this chap! Review and no flames. Concrits are welcome. Stay tune for the next chapter!