Why Sealand Can't Plan a Prank (And Why You Shouldn't Let Belarus Help Him)

Part 6

Meanwhile, the other nations weren't doing much better than Sweden himself.

Germany was in denial, still half-expecting Italy to rush around the corner at any moment, babbling about who-knows-what. Italy, who was freedom and gold and light in a world that had always been dull and monochrome. It seemed like years since he'd lived without the Italian near him every second of the day; all the color in the world was bleached away without him. North Italy had been his life for so long. Germany couldn't accept that he was... gone. And Japan was dead too, leaving the German completely alone. It had taken years, decades even, to find friends that he could trust and depend on, and now that had been snatched away from him in barely an hour.

Romano felt lost. How would he explain his little brother's demise to his boss? He couldn't even comprehend the death himself! Italy had always been there for his fratello, even when Romano really didn't want him. Italy was an overly positive ray of sunshine splitting through Romano's storm cloud of irritability and spite. And Spain... Romano didn't want to think about Spain. He had to block out his emotions, set them to rest in a little mental box that he never intended to unpack. That had always worked before.

Britain was lonely. His sons had meant the world to him, they had been his world, and now Canada was the only one left that he loved. Furthermore, now he would never marry France, he would never even know if his lover would have accepted the proposal. Since he could remember, the Frenchman had been his something, whether that something took the form of friend, enemy, ally, lover, or fellow parent. Dammit, Frog, you said you wouldn't leave me alone, Britain thought bitterly. Once again, his hand found the box in his pocket, a simple item that symbolized so much, and this time he did remove it, opening the lid and watching, mesmerized, as the diamond refracted little facets of light over his face.

Canada was confused. Losing his brother and father one after the other weighed heavily on his heart, and he still wasn't exactly sure how to have a normal father-son relationship with Britain. Canada had been overshadowed by America for so long that he couldn't even remember a time when Britain had put his shyer, quieter child first if not for his own personal gain. It stung, it always had, but when he'd had America and France around, he had always felt as though at least someone recognized him. Not for the first time, he yearned for Prussia to be there with him. Despite being loud and overbearing as could be, the Germanic nation would do anything for Canada, and he made sure to let him know it. Prussia was affectionate, understanding, and knew Canada better than anyone else. And above all, he was there for his husband when Canada needed him. Where are you, Prussia? I need you here, Canada mentally pleaded, though he was sure that no one could hear. No one ever heard him.

Lithuania was terrified. He had lost Poland before and knew that he wasn't prepared to lose him again. The Pole annoyed him and ordered him around, sure, but he was also Lithuania's rock, the person he could cling to when everything else in the world was spinning out of control. What would he do if Poland disappeared a second time?

Russia was ready. America, his light, his courage, the little flame he kept with him to burn away the ice around his heart, was gone. If Russia survived, he would be subjected to an indeterminable number of frigid winters, waiting for himself to freeze over again. Therefore, he reasoned, there was no cause for him to go on living after he had avenged America.

Norway was despondent. He kept his hands in his pockets as he walked, staring at the floor. He wasn't sure how to feel, what to feel, so he would give up on the concept of feeling altogether. Denmark had had a way of drawing out his emotions, making him want to live for something other than his work. Now that work was all Norway had, there was no room for feelings anymore. He said a silent goodbye to the Dane, to happiness, to fun, to love, and put on a mask of apathy.