literature

Should I Ever Forget

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Literature Text

Should I Ever Forget
Germany/Holy Roman Empire X Italy
Original Creator & Artist : Hidekaz Himaruya
Fan Fiction Author : StRaY-LoNe-WoLf
Rating: G

Moaning seemed to lull the pain, so all he could do was try and bear through it. His entire body crushed under the brute weight of his bleeding scars.
"He, fought vell, there vas nothing ve could do", came the vague voice in the corner of the room. His rough and heavy accent caught on his 'w' was that of Austria.
"But, it wasn't enough, look at his wounds" came the reply from Hungary, whose voice seemed to plead to him despite knowing there was nothing he could do.

Small drops of sweat beaded, seeping from the forehead. The man in the bed wanted to scream from the agony, but if he were to scream now, it would never stop and echoes of howls would ring the halls of the hospital.

"This is just like last time…" Austria whispered, but loud enough for Germany to hear, 'Last time?' he had no idea what Austria was referring to. He stretched his mind back as far as it would go but thinking made his head hurt and his face curl into a cringe, it didn't matter.  Listening was straining depleted energy and eventually it tore him away from consciousness.   


Sweet pale pastels of pink, green, blue and white illuminated by the midday sun flickered over the petals that retreated with the wind. Flowers scattered throughout the field as far the eyes could see, and the scent of wild daisies seeped with the wind. This place was so peaceful; it carried a strange essence of nostalgia in the air.
He looked down upon himself, no scars or wounds or bandages could be seen, and he could move freely. The pain was all but gone. Could have that war have been nothing but a mere, horrifically real nightmare?
Nonetheless, it was a heavy contrast to where he was standing now, despite having no idea where 'here' was.

"Draw a circle, that's the Earth. Draw a circle that's the Earth." The high, sugary voice rang out through the field, gently guided by the breeze.  He saw off, and in the distance he could see a small person, amongst the flowers.
Before he knew it, he was racing there. Maybe they knew where 'here' was. A trail of petals stirred and chased after his black attire that was a heavy contrast the world around him. Upon the closer image he could see the figure turn into a young girl, dressed in light green with a white linen pinafore. He slowed down when he reached her, happily amongst the flowers.   
"…Can be seen in the stroke of a single brush. And now, we give a toast with our boots, I am–" Germany coughed abruptly; trying to catch her interest but what was interesting he had a strange surging desire to see her face.  
She turned to him ignoring the gorgeous flowers around her, and he couldn't help but gasp. Her short brunette hair swayed with the flow, and the flowers trimmed her long green dress and white apron. But more than anything he was entranced by her big brown eyes.
In the short time he had come to fall for this face, hers had changed from a look of confusion to a big smile.

"You're back! You really came back!" she laughed as she stood up from the flower garden. Her armful of flowers dropped to the floor. He didn't move, this was the first time they had met, so why was she welcoming him back?
"Back? What do you mean?"
The question seemed to take her off guard. She paused for a moment that seemed to drag . She took his hands in her own, the smile had faded away.
"You don't remember? Anything?" She said, holding his hands tightly.
"I…" He tried to answer,
"Not even me?" her hands squeezed him ever so slightly tighter. The pain in her words tinged his heart with sting.
"But you promised…"

A swirl of wind disintegrated the world around them in a blur of colour; the petals of the flowers engulfed them both in the eye of the wind. The wind thrashed about as a cyclone of petals formed around them both. Never letting go of their unified hands, Germany stared at the completely still girl before him. Wind whipping around them, it died a little, enough to show a small part of the world beyond them.

It was horrific, the flowers were all but dead, and the sky and ground was dyed in red and black. Appendages of men, foliage and animal alike were scattered throughout the once beautiful ground. All Germany could do was gasp in horror as the scene was closed off again by the cyclone of petals.
He looked back at the young girl who mouthed something to him.
Come home.
"What?" The wind grew strong, enough to lift him off his feet, it was then the girl let go of his hands but not without reaching after him.
"Come back to me! Holy Rome!"

"ITALY!" Germany's eyes flicked open back into the white world, the images of flowers and soft breezes vanished from view.
His entire body ached, but not so much as before. He relaxed as he came to understand he must have been dreaming, and was now back in hospital after the last war had left him immobile.
He sighed in reprieve;

Holy Rome? I was…The Holy Roman Empire. I went off to war, and I, promised to return... All these memories after all these years. I was Holy Rome, before I fell and was reborn as-

"Germany?" a small quivering voice came from his side, it was then Germany noticed his left hand was inert, clasped and warm.
He angled his head, but there was no need, he knew who was by his side, and always had been, right from the start.
His hand was squeezed tighter as he faced the small man who sat only a arms length away. Tears swelled from his brown eyes, which would normally twinge at Germany's nerves, swelled relief instead. He couldn't help but smile at him. This seemed to push Italy's tears over the edge.
"Germany!" he stood up with a flash and threw his arms around his neck so hard it threw the back of Germany's head into the headboard behind them causing him to groan in pain.
"Austria and the others said you fought recklessly and got hurt again! I was so scared; I thought you were going to die! Please don't die Germany!" Italy nuzzled into Germany's neck, the tears streaming down his cheeks.

Germany relaxed as he sighed into Italy's hair. He ruffled it with the hand that was still warm from Italy clasping it. How long did he wait for me?
Italy released Germany enough to look at his face; Italy's face was hinted with the slightest tinge of pink, probably from the tears he was crying.
It didn't matter; Germany leaned forward to place a kiss on his wet cheek. It was salty but still somehow sweet.

"I'm home, Italy"
Here is one of the short stories that was featured in the book 'Somnium' only 6 copies were ever made, the picture was an accompaniment

Was written 2 years ago.... Wow....
© 2012 - 2024 StRaY-LoNe-WoLf
Comments6
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kael1030's avatar
Awesome. :D
You write really well. :tighthug: