A/N: Hello! I am Mushrooms of Gold, some of you guys might know me from my other fic 'His Cheerleader Boyfriend' that I wrote a while ago, well if you do, I'm back, as promised, with number two! This is by no means set in the same universe as HCB so all characters are starting fresh! Now, if you don't know me, welcome! I hope you enjoy my story!
Thank you for reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia; all characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya unless otherwise stated.

One.

I had to confess, I had imagined running away from my family and home to be a bit more glamorous than this.

From the moment that this bad, dangerous idea had wormed itself into my mind; I had pictured a dramatic scene. I had some dumb idea that the train that I was now riding on, in the middle of the night would be all empty and quiet, perhaps one or two other riders on it that would be deathly silent, as if their futures were as uncertain as my own, and as if they were also just as scared.

But that isn't at all what I got.

The air in the train's crowded carriage was hot but also damp and gross, the humidity steamed up the windows and even my glasses, so much so that after spending the first hour of the uncomfortable ride furiously wiping them I had given up and shoved them into my pocket.

There was noise too, so much noise. It was mostly talking in foreign languages that I could never even begin to understand. The French, German, Dutch and goodness knows how many other dialects all merged into a loud babble that took away any hopes to get some sleep on this journey.

Somehow I managed to be squashed up against a large business guy; the suit he was wearing was damp from the pouring rain which had only just stopped outside, this added to the muggy, atmosphere in a way that made me feel like I really needed to have a hot shower. There were loud drunk ladies who were probably celebrating something, cuz they were all talking three times louder than they needed to and there were multiple vodka bottles around their general area. Across from me, a mother tried to feed her baby, but the kid was too busy crying.

I tried to shift in my seat into a position that didn't hurt my back, wriggling around in the chair; I thought of a soft warm bed to go to with white linen and clean sheets but knew that right now, that wasn't an option. My eyes stung with the need to sleep and my throat felt tight and dry as I tried (and failed) to reach the side of the backpack that I had brought which held my water bottle.

This was all totally my choice though. It was true, I may have sorta faced a little disillusionment at this part of the journey, but this was something that I had been imagining and counting down to for a long time now. This was the sad cry for attention that I, Matthew Williams had sunken to.

I sank lower in the seat that seemed to be turning more and more to stone the longer I stayed in it. This was such a terrible, terrible idea... How could I do this to my parents? And my brother would be scarred by the whole thing

My eyes shut, though I couldn't tell if it was because I just had run out of the energy to hold them open or if I was cringing at how bad I felt.

After a few moments of re-gathering myself and trying to find my courage I opened my eyes again and leaned forward on my bulky backpack. I had decided a long time ago that I was going to do this, and that wasn't changing now. I had made it this far and there really was no going back. I knew why I was doing this, thinking back to where this plan to just run off without warning had all come from helped a lot. I was too overlooked back home. I was stepped on and walked over like the door mat of the family and I was finished taking it. Sick of neighbours forgetting my name and relatives forgetting that I even existed.

Somehow the third time that I had both parents away on a work trip on my birthday had triggered something. I still had the tear stained notebook page that I had written in an angry fury, trying to release my feelings which was in reality the birth of my plan. The plan to run away.

That's why I was here. It was something they couldn't ignore. They'd miss me. Maybe even cry. My face would go on milk cartons and they'd be on the news begging for my safe return. That was the plan.

I didn't hate my parents. They had raised me into a healthy seventeen year old; I didn't smoke, do drugs or have sex. I had good friends who were more likely to take me to a chess club than a nightclub and my grades weren't amazing but could see me to a college. They had just pushed me to a breaking point. I was starved of attention. Now I was going to make sure I got it.

I peered out of the window; we had passed the German border ages ago, sometime this morning. But now as the skies turned dark I hadn't the faintest idea where we could be now... Perhaps Poland?

It had been pretty easy to get here. I took advantage of the trip to Northern France the family did each year and used it as my escape route. This morning, before anyone else had even stirred; I took my prepacked rucksack and left the hotel alone with one destination in mind, the train station.

Now I was ready to take the next step and get off at whatever train station we were getting closer to, time let my adventure really begin.

I didn't have to wonder where my adventure was going to start for long, I perked up when I heard the monotone announcement that would inform me of where I would be spending the following weeks.

I didn't understand most of it, but there was one word that I did know, the name of the the city I was in.

Berlin!

That was new. I wasn't exactly the most travelled kid in the world, but Europe was familiar enough to me. There was the annual trip we took to France, and I had been to Italy once when I was little. I also had seen Spain and Belgium on school field trips. Though Berlin, and all the rest of Germany, was unexplored territory.

Suddenly I felt very nervous, my mind had already made itself up, I was getting off in Berlin. I had come to what I felt like was the point of no return what was just a theoretical fantasy last month was coming true, right here and now. I wiped the condensation from the window with my sleeve and watched the lights race by. This was the big city. My heart flipped.

Steeling myself one more time, I stood up abruptly and grabbed my rucksack. Then, rather less abruptly, I shuffle and squeezed past all the people, apologising to each one that I clumsily bumped into.

After an embarrassing, long minute of worming my way to the train doors, I stood, waiting as I felt the train start to slow and come to a stop. The doors slid open, letting the cold air in and me out.

There were hoards of people that got off here; I could only feel myself blend into the masses as I stepped down onto solid ground.

I must have stayed there for at least two minutes, my back to the train as the others around me dispersed. I waited and waited. Then I heard the sound of the train behind me start up, there was a small noise as the doors sealed shut again. I sucked in a breath as it started to chug away again, leaving me behind and creating a slight breeze that blew my hair forward and penetrated my clothes, chilling me.

I only let my breath go again when I could no longer hear anything but the buzzing of the lighting that hung in the station. I felt my feet become unglued from the ground as I hoisted my bag up and started to look for a place to pee before trying to find an exit.

x++x

I found myself in a deserted coffee shop around an hour later.

I was gonna try to avoid these kinds of places; I promised myself that it would pay off to cut the luxuries from my diet, and way of living. I had money that I had been saving for months and I had cash from my part time job, but it was still limited. I couldn't afford to buy coffee.

Though, despite my best mental efforts, when the allure of the hot drink with it's bitter caffeine called, I answered. I reasoned, as I entered the joint, that I just needed the caffeine after my long day and seven Euros was an okay price to pay for it.

"Um..." I tried to recall my limited German, suddenly wishing I had been more enthusiastic when I had taken the class for it at school, "Ein Kaffee... Bitte." My voice was croaky and my order sounded more like a question than an order, but I must have done something right, because the tired barista got to work, making what looked like was a black coffee.

I grabbed around 100 sugar sachets from their holder on the counter, shoving half of them in my pockets while I reckoned that no one was looking. The other half went into my drink the moment it arrived after what seemed like forever. I paid with a small grimace and headed over to a vacant, clean table.

Before I could even plant my rear down, the barista called over something in German, pointing to a sign that hung on the wall when she saw my blank expression that read in German, French and English, 'SITTING IN WILL COST EXTRA.'

I took a moment to take in the large notice in exasperation before finally puffing up my cheeks and blowing air out on my lips and nodding at the barista before heading back towards the door. I felt guilty enough as it was with my overprice drink that warmed my hands, I wasn't going to let myself sit at a table in there or I'd probably just keep going and be broke by morning.

I told myself that I wasn't done stretching my legs anyway, but my bag was getting heavier and heavier by the second and my coffee was cooling down rapidly in the night air.

I ended up pouring half of it in a puddle; it was too watery and weak and I was starting to worry about bigger things. Like where I was going to spend the night.

Truth be told, though I was shaking in a mixture of cold and fear, I was yet to find my excitement. I felt like poop. I was shocked at how tired riding a train all day had made me, there was a bad taste in my mouth, my head throbbed and my back ached.

Worst of all, I had no idea of where to turn.

I spun around once, and then twice, unsure of which direction to go. Hotels were all around me but I wasn't going to stay in one of those. They kept records and would probably recognise my face if someone asked. Someone like a missing person's investigator.

I would look suspicious to a hotel anyway; a fresh faced Canadian showing up all alone with a huge rucksack and only paying in cash was something they probably would remember.

Sleeping on a park bench didn't appeal either but I had thought of a medium. I wanted to spend my time in hostels. They were cheaper, more casual, and overall easier to look normal in.

But as I looked around, there wasn't a hostel anywhere around me. I bit my lip as my eyes scanned the buildings but no matter how many times I surveyed the area, there was nothing that even resembled a place for me to spend my first night as a runaway in.

I could have asked for directions but quickly decided that around midnight was not a great time to be asking the others on the streets for that sort of thing, especially when you barely knew a word in their language.

I wandered the streets for a while, getting more and more anxious, my situation only seemed even worse the more I thought about it. There seemed to be nothing for me. I walked, I ran, I trudged, slowly losing hope and faith in this whole idea.

I was about to lose it and burst into tears as I sat down on a bench. I was at the East Side Gallery, at the Berlin wall, but any wonder at the city's historic feature was lost as I stormed past the single street artist that was spray painting on the wall, dumped my bag down, kicking it roughly and had sat down, my head in my hands.

I could hear the street artist behind me toss down an empty can and I wondered if he knew where I could find a payphone where I could call for help.

"Yo." Suddenly the street artist was right beside me, I sunk down. He was looming over me and dressed in all black with the hood or his sweater up, very intimidating. He had both hands in his pockets and brought something out. For a fleeting moment I was sure it was a knife and I quickly fumbled to find some money so that he wouldn't hurt me,

"Du hast ein Feuerzeug?" He said and I looked back up at him, my shaking hands still trying to find my wallet.

There was a moment of silence between us, I had no idea what he just said but it didn't sound too threatening. Though I still wondered if I should have used the moment to run.

"Was? Du nicht spreche Deutch?"

I found my voice though it came out small and timid, "U-Um... Sorry, I don't..."

"Jesus, kid." He laughed, and I started to relax, suddenly I saw a flash of his smile and he didn't look so scary anymore, "Do not look so worried, you look fucking constipated."

"You speak English?" I asked with a little more confidence.

"What does this sound like to you? Chinese?" He laughed again and pulled down his hood.

I could see him now, the street lights showing me his features. He looked... Like a guy who could be hilarious, corny, rebellious and caring all at the same time. His hair was so light that in the dark it looked almost... White. He had pale skin that was a stark contrast to his black clothes and his eyes were rather narrow, making him always look mischievous.

And I didn't want to think it, but he had one of those boyish smiles that were universally top of the criteria for the perfect man.

The last thing I noticed was his piercings. One stud on his left brow and snake bite piercings on his lower lip. I had already decided that this man was the opposite of me; he was one of the few people of this world who could go anywhere and get all eyes on him. And not in a bad way either.

I blinked and realised that as I had been gazing up at the strange German man who had just approached me out of nowhere he had started talking again,

"Sorry, what?" I said, slightly embarrassed at my lack of focus.

"Oh man..." He ruffled his hair, the same ruffle you see men in shampoo adverts do, perfectly executed to mess up, and at the same time add volume to his light hair, "Do you even speak English? It is like talking to a statue here!"

"Sorry..." I said again, like it was the only word I knew.

"I was asking if you had a lighter... You know what that is, right?" He sat down next to me and I tensed up, "For these." He waved some cigarettes in my face. Of course I knew what a lighter was, I wanted to snap, but stopped myself. With my track record of focus with this guy, I couldn't find a way to blame him for thinking that I was a little dim.

"No, I don't... S..." I was about to use the S word again. But I stopped myself. I didn't want to look like that much of a wimp.

"Agh!" He hit the bench space between us with his balled up fist, startling me, "Mine is broken, and I fucking need a smoke!" He reached into his pocket and brought out a lighter with the Prussian flag on it and flicked it a few times, proving that no flame appeared when he tried.

"You're just being too impatient!" I grabbed the lighter from him.

"Hey!" He tried to take it back but I held it away from him, cupping my hand around it.

"There's a breeze here... You just have to do it right..." I murmured and flicked at it a few times.

"I saw a spark!" He exclaimed, his quest to reclaim his possession forgotten as he peered and watched me, "You are doing it!"

I gave no reply, just tried twice more and suddenly, it lit, "Quick, quick!" I hurried him before the flame died.

He frantically tore the small box open and pulled out the long cigarette, holding it to the flame and making a relieved noise as it caught alight,

"Awesome. We lit it!" He took a long drag, closing his eyes to take in the nicotine.

"Well I... I lit it..." I corrected him quietly but either he wasn't listening or didn't hear.

I coughed, wanting him to hold it a little further away.

He mistook my polite hint as something else, "Want one?" He blew out smoke at my face and I coughed more, waving it away,

"No!" I choked, "I don't smoke!"

"Me neither." He said, before taking another drag, holding it in his lips.

"Yes you do!" I blinked a few times, "You're doing it right now!"

He simply put a finger to his lips and gave me a wink. That shut me up.

There was a long silence. I started to think that this was the end of our encounter. I bit my lip. It was stupid to think that I had become friends with this strange man, he just wanted a lighter. That was all. We were still strangers. But then he spoke again.

"You are a tourist?" He blew out smoke again in a different direction.

I thought for moment, if that's what he thought, then my safest bet was to tell him that was the case, "That's right." And I suppose it was, in a way.

"Nice. Where are you staying?" He stood up and stretched. His sweater rode up and I got a peek at more pale skin.

I tore my eyes away as his clothes fell back into place, my worries stirring up once more.

"Well I... um... I'm having a little trouble..." The man seemed friendly and sober enough; perhaps he could help me find somewhere, though it seemed so hopeless, I had looked everywhere, "Say... Do you know any hostels around here?"

He raised one eyebrow, "You like sleeping in dumpsters?"

"What? No! I just need a bed for the night!" Maybe he didn't understand what I meant so I elaborated, "Somewhere cheap."

"Yeah. A dumpster is all you are going to find that will let you in for that sort of price."

I could feel my heart sinking, "Then what do I do!?" I was panicking again and it clearly showed, because he laughed and ruffled my hair.

"Go back to your parents. Are they not in a hotel? You are just trying to have some fun with awesome guys like me without them, right?"

"No..." I looked down, "I'm all alone."

There was a pause between us, "Why the hell did you come here with nothing but a rucksack and no plans?"

"I don't know..." I was shaking again and I felt a lump in my throat.

"You are a head case..." he grabbed my arm with a firm grim, "I guess we have no choice."

I tried to get away, suddenly feeling very afraid of the tall man again, "Wait no..." I tried to yank my arm away, "No! Where are you taking me!?"

I looked up at him, my face, a picture of terror, expecting to meet a dangerous looking leer but instead he just looked exasperated, "Calm down! I am taking you to my place."

I tried to pull my arm away again, slightly surprised when he dropped it so easily, "Why?"

"You have got nowhere else. And you gave me a light. And there are guys out here who would probably actually rape you."

I winced, so he had realised that I was worried that he'd do that to me. I took a moment to calm down, he was right. I did have no choice. I opened my mouth to accept his offer but he got in first, not doubting what my answer would be,

"Come on. My place is awesome." He started walking ahead of me letting me grab my bag and hurry after him.

We made it back onto the streets and I realised something. For the first time in what seemed like forever someone noticed me.