Italy skipped happily along the road as he went towards the meeting building. His tan outfit shone among the dull colors of December. There was no snow in sight, but there was frost everywhere. Romano's breath spiraled upward as he smiled happily. He was by an old cemetery with his amigo, Spain. The Spaniard was inside a large, poofy coat and was shivering, but he still held his traditional smile.

Romano saw something interesting in the corner of his eye. It was a large grave with flowers sprouting along the edges. Unlike the other graves, it didn't feel haunted, but it felt warm and welcoming.

"Lovi? Are you okay? Why did you stop walking?" asked Spain. The Italian shook his head and smiled brightly.

"Ah, it's nothing! I was just admiring the poppies surrounding that grave!" Spain raised his eyebrow when he saw the grave Romano was looking at.

"Um... Roma, there aren't any plants even near that grave! Plus, flowers don't wake up until Spring. Are you becoming delusional again...?"

"Oh, come on! You can totally see them!"

"No, I can't. Lets get out of this cold before it starts messing with your head more than it already has!" Spain grabbed Italy's hand and started hauling him toward the building. Romano glanced at the gravestone's name.

Feliciano Vargas

"I will always remember you" -Your Beloved Brother

Romano frowned in confusion. That name sounded oddly familiar. He shook his head and entered the building with his friend dragging him in.

He never saw the pigeon on the headstone cooing sadly at him.

Italy

THE END

Welp, I hope you liked it!

'I do not own Hetalia'