Moments [Hetalia x Reader]

89. Stories

Something slightly longer.

Theme:

4. Stories

(Y/n)'s heard many stories. When she was younger, much younger, her mother used to tell her stories. She didn't remember them all, there were too many for her to, but she remembered her favourites.

"Once upon a time, there was a nation," her mother began.

"An entire country?" she had asked.

"No, the personification of a country."

"Oh, okay."

"Anyways-" her mother shifted. "There was a nation who loved fighting."

"But why?"

"Who knows? Fighting isn't good for anyone."

"Mhm..."

"The nation had a younger brother named-"

"Nations can have siblings?!"

"Well, yes, kind of. It's very complicated."

It always took a ridiculous amount of time for (Y/n)'s mother to ever finish a story as (Y/n) herself would interrupt far too many times. Even so, she enjoyed the stories she had heard. The adventures, the heartbreak, everything. It took her too long to realize most of them had served as warnings.

To be fair, (Y/n) lived 20 to 30 years or so before she realized she wasn't ageing. She was immortal, at least, to her knowledge. Certainly, she wasn't those personifications of nations her mother had told her about, that much she knew. A shame, almost, but being a nation sounded fussy. Too many restrictions, too much paperwork, too little freedom.

She was a free spirit! She did what she wanted.

It was surprisingly easy for her to catch wind of who was a nation. Maybe it was because they weren't very subtle, or because of your mother's stories (bless her for them all those years ago), or perhaps it was just the aura they gave off. Subtle, powerful, and almost otherworldly. It made it easy for her to avoid them if she wanted to.

Not that she always avoided them, she talked to them every now and then, casual, polite, nothing interesting. She always left before long before any suspicion of her being immortal would rise. She had to stay on her toes after all. Rarely did (Y/n) encounter the same nation within a hundred-year span. She tended to move country to country every few years or so, circling around and switching up the order every now and then.

Picking up odd jobs, here and there, surprisingly, managing to make a living. She was often a storyteller, her favourite, but she did other things from time to time. She had to. It was only after she thought about everything she had done when she had bitterly realized that her mother had always wanted to tell these stories.

Out of all the personifications (Y/n) had met, she'd say one of her favourites was England or as he went by, Arthur Kirkland. He was endlessly entertaining, especially in conjunction with France or his little colonies. Could you blame her for wanting entertainment? Immortality was fun in concept but things got boring after a while. Every new invention was always interesting though.

Sometimes she wondered what the nations thought of her. Did they think she was a reincarnation? Did suspect she was immortal? Hopefully not. It was better for them to just not know her. And well, she had gone centuries without anyone suspecting a thing, why break the record now? From time to time, she wished she would stop being a coward and just befriend them but, unfortunately, she never goes through with that.

Well, even if she couldn't keep any friends (they would all die eventually), she at least had lots of time to learn new hobbies, try out anything she would ever want. She had all the time in the world after all.

Rather recently, she found it was more difficult to "disappear". She attributed it to how security was nowadays, the internet and whatnot. That also made it very difficult to just leave like she used to. That was why she tended to live on the outskirts of towns, rural areas where it was easier to pass by rather than big booming cities where there were just so many people.

(Y/n) still visited cities now and then but she seemed to have the worst luck, always running into a nation whenever she went. Well, she supposed it couldn't be helped.

It was too much trouble to avoid them anyway.

~~~

"Hey," (Y/n) said softly, kneeling down beside the crying child. "What's wrong?"

It was a clear day. The weather was perfect for a walk to the park and it was there she found a crying child. Well, not exactly a child. He was one of the micronations was he was basically a child, right? If she remembered correctly, he was Sealand.

The micronation sobbed. "A-Artie was being a big jerk!"

Ah, England. (Y/n) sighed a little and reached into her pocket to pull out a small pack to tissues. She handed a few over to Sealand who took them. He blew his nose and wiped away his tears though his expression remained unhappy.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head and continued to pout. The (h/c)-haired immortal hummed and nodded. "Would you like to hear a story instead?" Peering through his tears, he nodded. So, she rummaged through the depths of her memory to pick out a story. Upon deciding one, she began. It was a short story, nothing too long nor difficult to understand. (Y/n) thought it was fitting. She wrapped up the story and was pleased to find Sealand seemed to enjoy it.

"The end," she concluded.

"That's the end?" he questioned curiously. "What happened to the island? It is just a happily ever after?"

"Who knows? Do you want there to be one?"

"Mhm!"

She patted his shoulder and stood up from the bench they were sitting on. "Alright but, that's a story for another time. I think someone's here to pick you up."

Right on cue, a man with blond hair and intense green eyes strided over to them. He was wearing a plain suit without any wrinkles in sight. (Y/n) knew he was England partially because of the perpetually annoyed look on his face and partially because of those caterpillar eyebrows that never seemed to change.

He looked over to her and gave a sharp nod before beginning to scold Sealand. She stood awkwardly off to the side and pretended she wasn't listening. After finishing up the scolding, he turned to her.

"Hello, thank you for looking after him," England said.

"It's no problem," she answered, laughing a little. "I should get going."

"Yes," he agreed. "By the way, have we met before?"

(Y/n) tilted her head, her lips curled into a shrewd smile. "No, I don't think so."

"Hm." He gave her an odd look. "Alright. I probably mistook you for someone else."

She hummed. Sealand waved her goodbye and said, "Tell me the end of the story the next time we meet!"

"Of course," (Y/n) had answered.

Happy endings were always nice, even if they really didn't exist for people like her.

End!

Thanks for reading!

Sequel: 91. Lost