The rippling sea of stars hangs overhead; the sun has set. A shining moon travels through the sky, a haunting reminder of the darkness that inhabits the planet. Everything is so grey, so monotonous. Where was the life that had once thrived so wonderfully? The smiling figures that littered the world have disappeared, leaving empty shells that are moving in rhythm to Boredom's beat.

There is a teenage boy running on the sidewalk. His feet are clumsy and his eyes are grey. His shadow is darker than others. He frowns as crimson leaves his body, the last colour that he will see.

There are noiseless shouts from behind, men who run after him. They call a name in anguish, they call it many times. The boy does not respond, but trips over his own feet.

Lukas.

The trail of crimson would lead them to him, he knows this. A dam is breaking; it is already laden with cracks. He will slip on the water that flows, he will drown.

He passes a park he visited as a child. He remembers a picnic, and another boy. The other boy is grey too, and he is smiling. The boy hands him a basket, his cheeks crimson.

The dam breaks.

The vision dissipates, and the boy drags himself into a warehouse. He sits on the concrete stairs, drowning. He whispers a name over and over, desperately trying to break free of the grey. To visit the crimson-cheeked boy.

Mathias.

It is not working. The grey is overtaking him, choking him. His hands trail to his throat, fingers dancing delicately over the soft skin. He wishes for the warmth of the other boy, the long nights of happiness and joy.

Innocence.

He stays like this for only a short time, and soon his fingers are clawing at his heart. Everything seemed red, he was fearful. He was fearful of leaving the grey. He reaches his arms as far as they can go, eyes scanning wildly for a sign of reassurance.

It is if God has pardoned him for all of his sins when he sees the transparent form of the crimson-cheeked boy. A smile adorns his face, and he stands strong and welcoming. Though he looks older, he still holds the picnic basket in one hand.

They lock gazes for what seems to be eternity. The red is growing stronger, it is ripping him apart from the inside. He ignores this as best he can, one hand holding his heart and the other stretching.

Deep in his blacken soul, he knows he will not reach his goal. His vision is wavering, and the character in front of him is getting dimmer. He knows he must do something in return for the picnic basket. He knows he must make the crimson-cheeked boy happy.

His lips tug in an upward motion, and he permits his arms to fall beside him. He allows the red to feast on him. To break him open. He accepts it, because he knows it will make the other boy happy.

The world soon returns to colour.

I know I have a two stories I haven't updated in a about four months, but here. I usually don't write for Hetalia, but my friend asked me to write her DenNor, so I guess I'll just post it here too. This is partly based on the ending of the anime Death Note, so you might understand it a little better if you've read or watched it.

I'm not super familiar with Denmark and Norway's personalities, so forgive me if they're a little OOC.