Unfinished tale

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, or its characters.

A/N: I felt horrible. So I decided to make a companion/sequel (?) fic to my other story 'It's fine to pretend' (*cough* self-advertising *cough*) Sadly, no happy ending. I guess people usually put warnings? Uh, character death. *nods* I guess that's about it.

Enjoy.

Romano was tired. No, more than tired, he was exhausted. It flowed through his veins, and body, pulsating and making his world waver slightly. Instead of crying about and moping around, he acted like everything was normal. Only on a few occasions did Veneziano ask about him, and look at him with worry. Romano always brushed it off.

As usual, Spain came to visit Veneziano. Romano ignored the pair, his eyes refusing to leave the T.V. He wondered if he should at least say Hi to that tomato bastard. In the end, Romano didn't. Why should he? Spain came to see Veneziano; not Romano.
Only Veneziano.

Finally, like usual, when the tension built up and it felt too risky to stay in the same room with the pair, Romano escaped to the kitchen. He remembers how he promised himself to make sure and pretend that everything is fine. For them. Now, Romano was wondering why he was even trying.

It just didn't seem worth it anymore. Tears didn't fall for the lost cause anymore, as Romano stared pitifully on the outside of the Italia's house. Licking his chapped lips, Romano only glanced briefly behind him as Veneziano and Spain entered the room, laughing about an inside joke.

"Oh, Fratello!" Veneziano grinned. It made Romano feel a bit offended that his brother forgot that he might be somewhere in the house. "You hungry? Spain offered to take both of us out to eat! Isn't that nice of him?" Romano's eyes flickered to Spain's smiling face, and back to his brothers.

"…Sure, why not?" Romano sighed. Veneziano cheered, and left the room saying something about grabbing his shoes. Leaving Spain and Romano in the kitchen alone, an awkward tension began to fill the room as Spain hummed happily and Romano glared angrily on the floor.

"So, todo bien, Roma?' Spain asked, at last. Romano shrugged in reply, his eyes flickering from the floor to Spain's mid-section before going back to the floor.

"Everything's fine, bastard." The air was thick, and it was choking Romano. It made it hard to breathe. "…A-and you?" Spain grinned, letting out a small laugh that made Romano's heart jump. Romano instantly bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood, refusing to look at Spain.

"I'm great! Yesterday, I went out to the tomato fields, you know about those right? Anyways, I went out there, and there were some really big tomatoes out there! I am glad that the season is good!" Romano let Spain chatter away, glad that he only had to nod or stay silent while Spain continued on with their one-sided conversation.

"I'm back!" Veneziano greeted, coming back into the room. His voice cut into Spain's talk, and Spain kept on smiling at the younger Italian. "Now, let's go! I'm starving!" Spain laughed, and followed Veneziano out of the room. Romano lingered behind, before forcing his legs to walk after them.

The walk around was awkward as it could get for Romano. Spain and Veneziano mostly talked, and it seemed like they both forgot that Romano was trailing after them. A few women and men noticed the lonely Italian, and offered him smiles in which he returned weakly.

It felt like one day, Romano was just going to let everything drop. He was tired of holding his burden, and he had no other reason to hold onto besides his little brother and that stupid tomato bastard. Romano's tongue poked at the sore in his mouth caused by his teeth, and winced at its sting.

Before, Romano was horrified of the idea of dying. Now, he welcomed it. Not that he was suicidal or anything, it was just…when time came; he wouldn't be scared or crying. He wouldn't try to resist it. Maybe one day, he'd be with grandpa Rome. Romano made a face at that. On other thoughts, that was highly unlikely.

But before that time came, Romano wondered if he should tell Spain and Veneziano how he really felt. Would that change something? Defiantly, but for the better or worse, Romano didn't know. Probably for the worse, considering all the other things in Romano's life hardly ever worked out for him.

Yeah. He would keep it a secret. It will be a secret in which Romano would take the grave; and he was happy to do it. Veneziano and Spain didn't need to know, should they? In Romano's mind, they didn't. He didn't want Veneziano to torture himself over hurting his brother, even though it was his fault. Spain would probably be the same…right?

Again, Romano was left with more questions than he had answers. Biting his lip again, he suddenly realized that he trailed far behind Spain and Veneziano. Romano was tempted to call out for those bastards to wait up, but instead, he ran and dodged past other citizens of Italy, catching up.

"…jerks." Romano muttered, hurt that they didn't even notice he almost lost them. Apparently, they didn't hear Romano's small insult either. A frown wormed its way on Romano's features, and he sent a glare to the ground in front of him.

They didn't care? So why should he? Anger built up in his stomach, a familiar rush of saddens despair filling Romano. But as always, he bit it back harshly. Gnawing forcefully on his lip, he sullenly followed Spain and Veneziano.

Would they fucking care if they found Romano dead? No, who the fuck needs two Italys anyways? Not him! Bastards! Romano glared at the ground, his silent self-loathing and hatred towards the two in front of him going on without anyone noticing.

After a few minutes of sulking and near tears, Romano felt his anger fade. He was left with the usual numbing sense of relief as he reassured himself that he loved the two in front of him, and would do anything for them.

In the middle of his self-assurance, he realized that he slowed his walking to a pause in the middle of a busy street. "F-fratello!" Veneziano cried, turning around to stare helplessly at his brother as an upcoming car sped toward Romano.

Romano blinked, his body wanting to run, his body wanting to stay. As the car got closer, he knew that it wasn't going to stop and sending one last confused glance toward the equally confused pair on the side of the street who was too shocked to do anything. The small Italian let a small sad smile twist its way on the edge of Romano's lips.

Spain only took a small step forward in a late attempt to save Romano when the car finally made impact with Romano's body. Veneziano fell to his knees.

Romano was fine.

Review, Favorite, or whatever you do on stories that you read.

-BMTM