Fallen Bridges {Hetalia fanfic}

Three ~

((I still can't settle on a title... ugh... when i originally wrote this on my old account, it was called Red Balloons, for reasons I'll explain once I've finished this book... Was it better as just Bridges or should it stay Fallen Bridges? Also: THIS IS DEFINITELY DEDICATED TO @Doitsu_Lover FOR THEIR HELP WITH GETTING THIS CHAPTER GOING! Couldn't have done it without her HongIce headcannons))

Li felt sick.

His head was heavy, and his eyes were gritty from tears. There was a bitter after-taste in his mouth, coupled with a raw feeling in his throat. On top of all that, his stomach was growling, but he couldn't face going downstairs where Kiku and Kim were. Embaressment from his breakdown churned in the pit of his stomach. The steady ticking of his watch told him that it was only eight in the morning, but he felt like it should be much later in the day. He longed for his window-seat and a cup of Mei's spiced milk; for the comforts of his home. Ever since the fierce court battle between Yao and Arthur Kirkland, Li hated being away from home. It had begun when Li and Yao had had their first proper fight, and in his anger Li had missed the top step and fallen. Their next-door neighbour, (a social worker and part-time English tutor at Li's school), had heard the shouts, seen Li's plaster cast, put two and two together- and come up with eight. Further digging into Yao's past revealed a skirmish in his youth over opuim, and suddenly the safety of Li and his family- both adopted and biological- was put the question in a series of long, and painful court battles... Li had spent two miserable years from his 10th birthday to a few months after his 12th going between Mr Kirkland's house, a series of foster homes, and the Social center.

He stared up at the plain white ceiling, unseeing, as his mind trailed back down the route of his past. Funny, Li thought, he couldn't actually remember what that fight was about... He was up against that mental block again, the heavy wooden door. Slowly, an idea was forming in Li's mind: whatever he couldn't remember, all the memories that were obscure and fuzzy- or even just front-up blanked out- were linked to the Event, and the missing links in the timeline. Li sat up, holding his notebook on his knees and tapping his pencil against his teeth; he was going deeper into the tangled mess of his mind than he had ever dared before. Somebody had been there for him in those two years, not family... but a friend...

Li opened up to a blank double page, starting to roughly mindmap out the thoughts as they came to him. He didn't need Kiku and any fancy pyschotherapist tricks that he might perform, Li told himself.

(I can do this alone don't need them I'll do this and then I can go home)

He watched as his fingers marked out the words "The Event" into the middle of the page, and he circled it neatly. Mr Thomassen used to use mindmaps a lot, and would encourage his class to do the same; Li silently thanked him for the technique which had made the past fourteen months far more bearable. Thinking of Mr Thomassen, Li wondered again what the new teacher had been about to say. Why- and how- was it linked to him? He wrote that question down, sucking on the end of his pencil again. There were so many events, all linked in some way that he couldn't see: the ghost, the music appearing on his ipod, Mr Thomassen's replacement, his panic attack, the castle in his dream... Li's head was starting to hurt, but he bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood and kept going.

He took a deep breath, and suddenly a murky memory returned to his mind. It didn't hit him hard, or make some sort of explosive reaction; instead he vaguely remembered somebody screaming something, blurring between English and another language, sobbing. There had been hands tugging at the wires attatched to Li's body, and with a start he watching the whole experience from above. A man with messy pale blonde hair and a few days of stubble was shaking Li's unconcious body, his already rumpled clothes crumpling completely as the man suddenly collapsed, weeping, to the floor. As he looked up, bloodshot violet-blue eyes ringed with heavy bags, Li recognised the face of his teacher. Lukas Thomassen looked completely broken, and as his tall Danish friend led him out firmly by the shoulders, Li was pulled back into his own body abruptly. He was no longer sitting on the bed, and neither was he in the hospital room of his memories. To his dismay, Li was standing in a completely white room, which was situated at the end of a long tunnel. He breifly snorted and a fleeting thought passed through his mind- it'll get very draughty in here...

A hazy figure was standing at the mouth of the tunnel, irritation sharpening his pale and childish. His silver hair was ruffle by the invisible fingers of some non-exsistant breeze, and the small boy looked up at Li with wide eyes that were a deeper violet than the spring bluebells.

"Li-Xaoi Wang, do you know how long I've waited for you to arrive here?" he asked, his tone heavy with all the maturity of a young adult, while his voice was merely that of a five year old.

"...No..."

"Hey, do you even know who I am?!"

"Like, no, because I'm, like, an amnesiac," Li replied, feeling awkward.

"You— Jeez, Li, stop being such a pain! You're not... you..." the boy trailed off. He suddenly appeared older, and he was the teenager from the classroom once again. "You're a crypto-amnesiac. There's a difference... just... look in the back of Kim's car. You might be surprised,"

And just like that, the tunnel began to fade away, and Li could see the room in Kiku's house once more.

"Hey! Stop! What's going on!?"

"It's difficult to say... you're nearly there, I promise,"

***

It was evening, and nobody was around to watch Li break the lock on Kim's old car, apart from the stars high above him. With a click, the boot sprang open and he found himself staring at piles of boxes covered with a blanket. His trembling hands pulled the blanket away, and Li picked up the box nearest to him. It was quite heavy, and inside he found a yellow umbrella, an mp3 player, and an old textbook. Li's frown deepened, and he opened up the second box: only to find it full of books. Some were in English, but others were in different languages he didn't recognise. Or rather...

Languages he couldn't remember...

There was a lion roaring in his ears, and Li grabbed his head. Panic rose in his chest again, forming a hard box around his heart. The trembling in his hands was now a violent series of spasms, but still he persevered in opening one of the English books.

He could see it now.

Puzzle pieces all slotting into place, sorting themselves out, making a picture that he really didn't want to see.