Thanks to Eternal Nexus Warrior for reviewing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

EngBul: New Hope

Dimitri worked as a waiter in a coffee shop, and he always made sure that he was friendly with the customers. He worked as hard as he could, plastering a smile on his face.

It wasn't until he reached his apartment that the smile fell.

He leaned against the door, feeling the barest prickling of tears. He couldn't see a future for himself. He hadn't been able to since he was twelve.

Shaking his head, he made his way to the kitchen. He eyed one of the knives, before shaking his head. No, it wasn't one of those days. He wasn't in a bad enough mood to cut himself. This time.

After dinner, he made his way to the bedroom, curling up on the bed. The next day, his mundane life would continue. At least it was mundane. Mundane he could handle. As long as he didn't try to think of his future, he would be okay.

…

Dimitri took the menu out to a new customer. The man had blond hair and green eyes, and the thickest pair of eyebrows that he had ever seen. Still, he was handsome.

"Here's your menu," Dimitri said, handing it over.

"Thank you," the man said, glancing up at Dimitri. "Dimitri, is it?"

Dimitri wanted to ask how he knew, before remembering the name tag. He smiled and nodded.

"Da," he said. "Would you like some time to peruse the menu, or do you have something in mind?"

"Hmm," the man said, a playful smirk on his face, "perhaps I want to know what you would recommend?"

Dimitri blinked in surprise, before he shook himself from his stupor.

"Of course," he said. "Um, the Turkish delight milkshake is good, and so is the toffee frozen yogurt."

"Then I guess I'll have both," the man said.

"Are you sure? Both of them are pretty sweet."

"I think I can handle it."

Dimitri nodded his head, before retreating to the kitchen. He told the cook about the milkshake, and she got to work, while he went to get the frozen yogurt. Once those tasks were done, he took it out to the man.

"Thank you," he said. "So, how long have you been working here?"

"About a year," Dimitri said.

"A year? And, do you enjoy it?"

Dimitri shrugged.

"I can't really complain," he said.

The man smiled.

"I'm Arthur, by the way," he said, taking a bite of the yogurt. "I think I'll be coming back often."

Dimitri didn't know what to say to that, so he hastily went towards the kitchen. The cook was watching them, and she lightly smacked Dimitri.

"Ow," he said, rubbing his arm. "What was that for?"

"He was totally flirting with you," she said. "And you just ruined it."

Dimitri frowned, before he looked back towards the man – Arthur. He was looking over towards him, still eating the yogurt, though it seemed as though his tongue lingered a bit too long on the spoon.

"There's no way," Dimitri said.

People didn't flirt with him, and he couldn't blame them. He wasn't worth anything. No one would ever be interested in him.

Or, that was what he thought.

…

After the fifth time that Arthur came, he did the unthinkable: he asked Dimitri out on a date. He was in such a state of shock that it took the urging of both the cook and the owner to say yes.

It was after their sixth date that Arthur brought him home.

Arthur's apartment was a lot more impressive than his, and he felt completely out of place. But Arthur assured him that it didn't matter as he kissed him.

They had made their way to the couch, and Arthur kept kissing him. Dimitri was in a daze. He had never imagined that something like this could happen to him.

But when Arthur started pulling up his shirt, Dimitri snapped out of the daze.

"No!" he cried out, pulling back.

Arthur's eyes widened.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I was… That was too fast. Forgive me. I don't want to force you into anything."

Dimitri was trembling, but he nodded his head. Arthur quickly excused himself to the kitchen, allowing Dimitri to calm down on his own.

The Bulgarian took a while, but eventually he stopped trembling. He felt foolish, but he didn't want Arthur to see.

Dimitri had a nasty habit of cutting himself, but he didn't go for the forearms, as was typical. He chose to go for the shoulders, chest, stomach, hips and thighs. Places that he had never expected that he would show anyone. And he didn't want Arthur to see. He didn't want Arthur to know how broken he was.

Arthur returned with two cups of tea, and Dimitri took one gratefully.

"I poured some extra sugar in yours," Arthur said. "I hope you don't mind."

Dimitri shook his head, taking a grateful sip of the tea.

Arthur bit his lip.

"It's about the scars, isn't it?" he asked.

Dimitri froze, staring at Arthur.

"I felt them," Arthur explained. "On your stomach. Are those… self-inflicted?"

Dimitri fell silent, pursing his lips.

"I should probably go," he muttered.

As he tried to stand, Arthur grabbed his wrist, pulling him down again. Dimitri looked over towards him with wide eyes, and the Englishman cupped his cheek.

"I don't care about any of that," Arthur said. "I care about you."

Dimitri's eyes widened, before brimming with tears. He couldn't help himself. He launched himself at Arthur, crying into his chest.

…

Dimitri awoke the next morning, feeling groggy. He realised that the room wasn't familiar to him, and he panicked a little, before memories of the previous night came back to him.

He looked to the side to see Arthur, and he smiled. Arthur made him feel safe. The way he knew exactly how to look after Dimitri.

Dimitri looked to the other side, seeing a folded piece of paper on the nightstand. Curious, he took it.

It was a photograph depicting two young boys. Dimitri's eyes widened when he realised that one of them was Arthur, and the other was… him.

That was impossible. He knew that he hadn't met Arthur before a few weeks ago. And yet…

"Dimitri?" Arthur asked. "Good morning."

Dimitri looked to the side, seeing Arthur rubbing his eyes. The Bulgarian was confused, and needed to know what was happening.

"Arthur," he said, "did we, perhaps, know each other from long ago?"

Arthur frowned in confusion, until he saw the photo in Dimitri's hand, and his eyes widened.

"Did we know each other before?" Dimitri repeated.

"Yes… and no," Arthur said. "It's… A bit difficult to explain."

"Well, try then."

Arthur nodded.

"Let's go to the living room, and I'll make us some tea," he said. "I've also got something stronger, if you like."

"I think I'd prefer to be sober to hear this," Dimitri said.

"Right… I don't blame you."

A few minutes later, the two found themselves in the living room, cups of tea in front of them.

"I'm not quite sure how to explain this," Arthur said. "But… First off, you need to know that magic is real, and alternate worlds exist."

"And you're supposedly from an alternate world where we knew each other?" Dimitri asked, finding it a bit hard to believe.

"…You've been contemplating suicide since you were twelve years old."

Dimitri tensed.

"How do you…?" he started.

"You were right," Arthur said. "I am from an alternate world, where the two of us were friends. And on that note, a new world is created whenever someone makes a choice, so everyone has their own personal universe. In your case… Every day you choose to live creates a new world."

Dimitri sucked in his breath.

"This is…" he started.

"I realise that," Arthur said. "But… there's more. As I've said, you were contemplating suicide since you were twelve. And you told me when we were thirteen. I made you promise… that you wouldn't kill yourself. I didn't want to lose you. But when we were fifteen… we drifted apart. I became popular, while you faded in the background. You were bullied, but I was too afraid to stand up for you. I was afraid of being associated with you. To lose my status. And then, one day… One of them managed to pull up your sleeve. He announced to the whole school that you were cutting yourself. And you were mocked by everyone. And those that didn't mock remained silent. No one came to your aid. Not even me. And the worst part was… You looked at me, silently begging me for help, but I did nothing. The next morning… There was a school announcement. You committed suicide. And that was when I realised that… I loved you. I always had."

Dimitri listened silently. He remembered being bullied – he was the only Eastern European in his school, after all. But… no one ever found out about the cuts. To listen to something that happened to him, but didn't happen to him… It resonated within him.

"Your mother came to my house that afternoon," Arthur continued. "She showed me your suicide note. Those words still haunt me. 'Arthur, you made me promise, but you didn't give me a reason to keep that promise.' Your mother asked me what it meant, and I told her. I was one of the few people who attended your funeral. And after that… I started looking for ways to bring you back. Resurrection was out, and time travel was out, that just meant alternate realities. I just… I wanted you back. Basically, I hop to the alternate reality and take the place of the me in that world, and when I leave, they have a bit of a foggy memory. Their memories would flow into me, and… I've lost count of how many times I've attended your funeral, or should I say, remember attending your funeral. Sometimes, you killed yourself before the point in time in my world. Others…" Arthur shook his head. "There was one when I managed to arrive in time, but by then, the damage had been done. You were suspicious of the sudden attention, and you were so convinced that it was a prank, that you didn't wait to see. Another time I also arrived in time, and you believed it was a prank too, but were willing to wait. But then our peers convinced you otherwise. That I was playing with your emotions, and you couldn't stand it. You went to the rooftop of the school, and despite me trying to save you, you jumped. Another time, I arrived the day after you committed suicide. There were so many worlds… the worst of them were the times you killed yourself before we even made that promise. I was twelve years old, attending my best friend's funeral, and I couldn't even understand my own emotions at the time. Time continued. I don't know how many times I've gone through this, but when I started, I was seventeen. We're twenty-five now."

"Eight years," Dimitri whispered.

"Yes," Arthur said. "I always arrive too late, or almost too late. And when I arrived in this world… I was relieved that I didn't get any memories of your funeral. But then I realised that I didn't have any memories of you. We never met in this world. We never attended any of the same schools. I didn't know of your fate in this world. I tried social media, without any luck. I was starting to lose heart… And then I saw you across the street. I followed you to the café, and when I saw that you worked there, I saw my chance. I needed to talk to you. Needed to know that you were happy in this world. But already, the fact that you couldn't pick up on my flirting told me that you weren't as happy as I had hoped. And, last night… When I felt those scars, I knew that you weren't happy in this world either. You were clinging on to life. No, you weren't living. You were surviving."

Dimitri flinched, before he bowed his head.

"It's true," he said. "I… I wasn't happy. I wasn't really living. In fact, whenever people ask me where I see myself in the future, I can only see a grave. I couldn't figure out why someone like you would even like me. But… That story of yours… It's impossible."

"Not really," Arthur said, before he went to his room. He returned soon, handing a book to Dimitri. "I managed to get these in some of the worlds. In case… In case I ever had the chance to show you. To tell you… I love you, and I'm so sorry I forced you into a promise without giving you a reason to keep it."

Dimitri swallowed, before he opened the book. It was a scrapbook, and some of the contents were photographs of him and Arthur. Others… were pamphlets given at funerals. Different dates of death, but the same date of birth. His face at different ages. Even a small section in the school newspaper of his death. A very small section.

There was one picture of the two of them at graduation, and he pointed to that.

"What about this?" Dimitri said.

"You managed to graduate that time," Arthur said. "We became college roommates… You confessed to me, but the me in that world turned you down. Harshly. I stepped in around the same time he returned to his room after a night of drinking, and… I found you on your bed, your wrists slashed open. If only I had been a few hours earlier…"

Dimitri swallowed thickly, before he closed the book.

"And what now?" he asked. "You're in love with the Dimitri from your world. That's not me."

"I know," Arthur said. "The Dimitri I remember… We weren't close since we were both fifteen. And in this world, the first time we met was in that coffee shop. So… We both can start over. We both had."

Dimitri's eyes widened as Arthur wrapped him in a warm hug.

This is an idea that I've been contemplating. A person who's been contemplating suicide for years falls in love with someone, and finds out that that person is from an alternate reality where they committed suicide. The person has been jumping through realities in search of them, but could never arrive in a world where they didn't commit suicide, whether it was recently or years ago.