Sinful Nostalgia | Hetalia

14 || The Cherry Blossom Effect

Feliciano came home about four days later. He was in a wheelchair, and had to be lugged up awkwardly by his apparently pissed off brother. I could see him as I was on my way out the door. He looked small and vulnerable, sitting in a chair with a flannel blanket over his legs. Even so, he beams at me and waves. Dazed, I just raise my hand and wave back as he rolls inside.

Work came and went as usual. I went to work, stayed for hours, went home at one dragging a very drunk Julchen along with, and repeated the next day. Everywhere I went, I could see Feliciano sitting outside in his wheelchair. I was always too scared to approach him, so we'd just wave at each other from afar. One day, I found him sitting in a community garden. All alone. Just... looking at the newly bloomed flowers.

Julchen noticed my hesitance to go see him. "Go to him," she hissed into my ear, so that no one but her and I could hear. All I could do was nod, and with legs that felt like lead, make my way over to the boy in the garden. Cherry blossom petals sat on his brown head, and he looked as if he was just staring straight into space.

"G-guten tag, F-Feli," I stammer out awkwardly, shaming myself immediately and staring straight at the ground. My feet won't judge my cheesiness, right? Feliciano turns around, and his face breaks out into a large smile.

"Ciao!" he waves, beaming from ear to ear. "I'm so happy to see you, Monica!" He sounded sincere, but was he...? I decided to go with yes, he really was happy to see me. It made my heart swell up in my chest, especially after remembering Julchen's conversation with me at the bar a few days ago. I sit beside him on the ground, being dwarfed due to his wheelchair.

"Are you getting better?"

"Yes, yes I am!"

"Good."

Small talk was all we could manage, either too awkward to bring up what has been occuring, or Feliciano was just oblivious to it all. I think it's a mixture of both. His childlike innocence could never be shattered, even when times were like this. Even when I felt... more tense around him.

I stare at the flowers surrounding the place, cherry blossom trees full in bloom and bright and beautiful colors bursting about everywhere. Spring was about here by now. Not the crisp beginning of Spring, when the snow has just melted. Not the end of spring, when all living things begin to die all around. No. This was an absolute, perfect, stereotypically beautiful Spring day.

After reflecting on the perfections of the cherry blossoms, I turn to look at Feliciano. He was struggling to get out of his wheelchair. "Dummer junge," I whisper. Then, I help him make his way on the grass. At least now, we were eye level. Now, we could look at each other's faces when we speak to each other. Now... I can see him.

"Here, Moni-Bella," Feliciano utters softly, setting a crown of woven cherry blossoms on the top of my head. He attempts half-heartedly to laugh, and grins at me meekly. "Mozzafiato." His hand runs down the side of my face, under my chin. "Mozzafiato," he repeats quietly. "I missed you..."

At first, I wish to swat his hand away. I wish to lock my heart up, and never let him in again. I long to do that. But, the desire that overpowers it is my heart practically begging him to warm it once more. To mend the broken peices. So, instead, I touch the flower crown.

Even if I am afraid.

Even if I am scared to love or let in anyone.

Even if I am, perhaps, the most disfunctional person out there.

This is the first time I actually feel beautiful.

"Ricordo."

"Ich erinnere mich."

I remember... I remember... Everything. Everything. Should that make me care for you less? Should that make me want to push you away? Should that... split us apart once more?

"Scusate," Feliciano chuckles, only with a fourth of his normal cheerfullness. "I'm trying not to be scared right now, but..." He gulps. "I am..." I roll my eyes at him, though a lump was forming in my throat.

"Feigling," I scoff, averting my glance and resorting to staring at the blossoms once more. "You really are a whimp, huh?" Feliciano giggles, then, suddenly, breaks down crying. He flings his arms around me. I immediately stutter in protest, face turning a bright, bright red. "F-Feliciano! Get o-over yourself!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"I know," I whisper, finally relenting and wrapping my arms around him in a hug. The tears slowly dripped down my cheeks. "I am, too. I'm sorry for..." I breathe. "I'm sorry for everything." Feliciano tightens his grasp on our hug, as if he were afraid to ever let go again. I'm sorry for breaking your heart.

"Just... be... you...." Feliciano hiccups, pulling away just enough for us to look at each other's tear-stained faces. Never has something hurt me so much. All my life, I begged to remember my past. Would I still want to if I knew how much it would hurt me in the end? "Because you, Monica, are meraviglioso."

All I can do is manage a weak, watery smile. "And you, Feliciano," I whisper, with a voice more fragile than broken glass. "Are wunderbar."