Heroes ((WW2 Hetalia))

Part 2

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The morning sun slashes through my eyelids and I blink at the daylight spilling through the window. I have survived another night, Having to live through my memories, I'm not sure which parts are dreams and which parts are memories any more. My limbs are saw and stiff, I cough and sneeze, I know I'm ill, but ignore it all, I say - and count your blessings your back in Frenchtown and your body is still functioning. You have a nice place and a mission perform, I remind my self, maybe this day will be when you see Ludwig Beilschmidt will appear on these streets and be able to carry out that mission.

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There are so many things I can remember, that still haunt me, shocking me. It's almost like walking up the stairs and there is one more step than you think, you stumble down and down, your head hurting and sore, and heart thumping from shock. I walk down to the local bar, where there are other veterans, there's Arthur Kirkland, Ivan Braginski, Feliciano Vargas and many others.

"Hey Francis" Arthur says, "Ain't seen you in a while, how are you?!" He calls urging me to sit down, I go and sit in the empty velvet seat next to him. We all start talking, all the veterans, stating their plans and businesses now they are free from the war. It's pretty amazing what they all want to do, teachers. doctors.

Later when most people have left. Arthur Kirkland comes closer and we start our own conversation. Then that's when it happened. "Don't I know you from somewhere?" he asks taking a massive sip of his whiskey. "Probably not" I say shaking my head. "No" He says putting his drink down from his lips, "No way, (Y/N) (L/N)!" he says, he remembered me?

"That's just amazing" He says, "How on earth did you trick all those people? and you won a silver star" He says "A medal of heroism" I shake my head. Not heroism, just foolishness.

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It begins to get late, we begin to walk home. Arthur is clearly drunk and slumps at the side of a building in Pea alley. "(Y/N)" he says looking at me "It's not fair, we went to war, and no-one wants to talk about it. My war. and your war to!" he cries. Who knew this was how he felt. "We were just kids from Frenchtown. No sign of heroism, we were all scared" he goes on. He turns a glance to me. "Where you scared (Y/N?)" I gave him a sympathetic look, "we all were"

"Heroes, pft" Arthur scoffed. All signs of drunkenness gone. "We were not heroes, we were only there" He says. I could not of agreed more with him.

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By now I bet your wondering why I want to kill Ludwig Beilschmidt, It's a very long story and starts a long time ago, but I have to start deep into my child-hood to get to that story, And a lot of my child-hood was wonderful, happiness and care-free. lets start here:

Some days I would be with my friend Elizaveta. she was a wonderful best friend and would always listen to me. well most of the times anyway. . .
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One sunny after-noon in front of the corner shop I was sitting with several children from the school, including Eliza, When Francis walked past us, he gave a quick wave to us, I smiled and waved back, did he finally notice me?! I really liked Francis. He was a flirt, yes, but very kind and handsome, Elizaveta on the other hand thought he was a bit of a joke.

"Hey Francis" She called to Francis "You've got dog rubbish on your shoes" she yelled. Laughing at her joke, that everyone else thought was funny. Okay yes it was. He looked at his shoes, which were perfectly clean, and tilted his head as if puzzled, "You've got a big mouth Eliza" I mutter. "What? Oh yeah I forgot you like Francy-boy" I frown slightly at her. But what I had really wondered was: Had Francis been waving at Eliza, or me?

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I, of course am on my way to the Wreck centre. "It's a bad luck place" people had said. There have been stories about it before, in the old days before it was called the wreck centre, it was a town hall, where they held parties there on special occasions like weddings, new years eve or the fourth of July,