A small blond became lost in crowd of his soldiers. For a boy so tiny, he held quite a large gun. He cradled it against his chest, waiting for a chance to fire.

His human self had never been very adept at war. He was but a child. Yet, he marched with his soldiers and held himself like a man. He aimed his gun, finger sure on the trigger. He was proud, if not a bit arrogant.

So he didn't possibly believe he'd be the one to fall.

He hadn't the slightest idea where the bullet had come from, all he noticed was the searing pain and how it quickly faded into a white-hot haze. The rest of the world followed, life turning in on itself like a collapsing star. It was although he'd lost his body, but he was really only slipping into a blank bliss of unconsciousness.

"Italy." The word pulsed through his mind, rushing forth like the blood from his head wound. "Italy, where are you?"

He waited for a reply that would never come. Several of the men who'd taken notice of his fall crowded around him. He asked the air, his words scarcely a whisper:

"Where are you?"

It was easy to slip away. It was like falling asleep…not that he didn't struggle to stay alert. He couldn't let himself die. He had to return, he'd promised to come back. But the warm numbness convinced him to alter his plans.

"Who are you?" He heard a voice asking.

What a strange way to be welcomed to heaven, or whatever world comes after this.

"Me?" He found he could speak. "I'm Holy Roman Empire." The small nation didn't seem to have the strength to open his eyes. "Who are you?"

"Me?" The voice seemed amused. "I don't know."

"Am I dead?"

"I don't know."

Holy Roman Empire winced upon finally dragging open his heavy lids. A boy stood over him.

A blond.

"You look just like me!" He exclaimed, sitting up suddenly. "Who are you?! I want you to tell me right away!"

The other looked down, piercing blue eyes full of wonder. "I already told you; I don't know who I am."

"That's impossible! You must have some idea!"

"I don't." He said simply.

"Well! I can't have my time wasted like this! If I'm not dead, I must return home to Italy." He tried to stand.

"Who?"

"Italy. I don't think you know her."

"Oh. So you aren't going to stay with me." He didn't seem emotional; he was just stating a fact.

The confused boy finally took note of his surroundings, or lack thereof. Extending in all directions was a blaring white emptiness, echoing and eerie. This could not be heaven. If it was, it was not nearly as extravagant as it was rumored to be. "No. I need to leave." He was hit with an overwhelming pang of pain in his head. He curled down on the floor, gasping. "I need to leave."

"I don't think you can. You look weak."

"Don't say that." He paused to take in large quantities of air between words. "You have to help me get back. We can go back together. I have to get home."

"How do you suggest we make it back together? I'm beginning to believe we're the same."

"What?"

"The same."

"As in, the same person?"

He nodded.

"Perhaps." He'd resumed closing his eyes. "But I must get back to my Italy. She's waiting for me."

"I can't help you."

"Why not?"

"You're dying."

"How do you know? I thought you just said you didn't know if I was already dead."

"I know more now."

"Than you did but a minute ago?! Don't try to fool me!" His voice was weakening, as was the rest of him.

"You're going to die." He reached out to touch the others forehead. "I'm sorry."

"If I'm indeed going to die-" He choked. "-please go back to them for me."

"To who?"

"All of them. Tell Austria I'm sorry for being such a fool." He stared up at the vast void of nothingness that stretched above them. "Keep my brother Prussia out of trouble. Tell Hungary she was the closest thing to a mother I ever had. But Italy…tell Italy I love her. Tell her we love her. Tell her you love her. Don't let her cry. Go back for me."

"I wish you didn't have to die." The standing child sniffed, moved to tears. "If I can, I promise to go back for you."

"Thank you."

"Is there anything else I should know?"

There was so much the dying nation wanted to say. He'd gotten so much out of his life. Despite not looking it, he'd seen nearly a millennia of time. Of course there was much more for this newcomer to know, but he shook his head. "No, I've told you the most important things." This was true. "But, one thing; is this all in my head?"

"Maybe. I wish I could tell you."

In the middle of his steady death, he began to decline rapidly. He seemed to have lost interest in his companion –his other self- and spoke only to the little maid he'd never again get to kiss. "I'll try and come back someday, Italy. No matter how many years pass, I'll love you the most of anyone in this world."

And the Holy Roman Empire was no more.

When the new child stirred awake, a part of him clung to the broken fragments of a conversation he had to have only dreamed of. He couldn't recall what it was about; only that it was with an eerie look alike of himself. That other boy had told him things; there'd been the exchanging of a promise.

But exactly what it was he'd promised, Germany could not remember.

Alright. This was completely random inspiration. I'm not sure I like it; it's kind of too abstract.

…But I wrote and posted it anyways, so a review would be lovely.

Okay, I completely stole a line from the anime, and my history's all messed up. The Holy Roman Empire really fell when Francis II abdicated. But him getting shot on a battlefield is far more dramatic.

Well…ciao~, m'dears!

-Lissa