Winter would always be a depressing thought. It was when she was born, and when she had died.

    Countries weren't allowed to love humans, most understood this. It was hard enough to be friends with humans, let alone commit yourself to one. Some countries knew very well how hurtful loving a human could be - and some could only imagine. No matter the situation, the country would outlive the humans. They were damned to live on after seeing their friends and loved ones pass. Some countries had even gone as far as cutting contact with humans off, and some had even completely ignored humans. They were just meat bags who would disappear one day, no?

     They were a select few that had once loved a human, only to be depressed when the passed on. France knew this feeling, but so did Greece. He had loved a human from the time she was born, to the time she died. He had been there on both occasions, and every day in between. He could remember every little bit of those days, even the bad ones that he wished to sleep away. Not even all the cats and naps in the world could make his bitter resentment go away. She had passed on so young - so young in his eyes. He would sit there in his home, remembering those beautiful days. He had many favorites, but the best of his favorites was the day he first met her.


    Greece walked down the street, his eyes wandering around the world. He had come into town to get something to eat. It wasn't a lie if he said he wasn't curious as to the rumors too. Lately, he had heard from the townsfolk and even his boss, that a young lady was wandering through the towns, looking for a place to stay. He continued on down the street until he crossed such a woman. She was laying in the alley, looking dully through the bars guarding the street from the alleyway. She didn't move when he approached, but instead continued to stare with her dull eyes.

     He got down on his knees in front of her, waving a hand in her face. Her eyes didn't move, but her lips parted, just as she whispered, 'Thank you'. With that said and done, the woman rolled away, revealing a baby. It was pale, barely alive like its mother. Greece quickly opened the bars, stepping inside of the alley. He bent over and picked the child up, cradling it to his chest. He called out to a passing person, 'Please, call the ambulance, sir!'. Said man did just that.

     Greece refused to release the baby until he arrived at the hospital with the mother. The doctors had worked extremely hard to keep both alive - but they failed. The mother had apparently been ill for a long time, neglected and cold on the street. The child was an entire different conversation. The many doctors had told Greece many different things, varying from 'She'll be fine, don't worry,' to 'The baby will most likely live, sir, but she probably won't be in a healthy condition.'

     Even so, Greece had told himself he was not going to leave until he had the child in his hands. For some reason, he felt obligated to mother to take care of this baby. In fact, the country was so tired from staying so long in the hospital, he ended up napping on the benches outside. He hadn't a clue how long he had been there. It wasn't until one of the many nurses woke him up, did he realize it was almost sunrise. The baby had apparently gotten better in a matter of hours - she was just cold. Instead of sending her off to an orphanage, Greece decided to keep her until he found a suitable home.

     "Come on," he whispered, "Let's go home. I'm sure you're tired...I know I am. Tomorrow, we'll get you some nice clothes, okay?"

     A smile crossed his face at the sight of the baby girl. Perhaps he could keep her for a while, as long as he raised her right. He thought deeply, thinking of what he could call such a child. He had considered many Greek names, but he didn't believe it would do her justice. Instead, Greece finally decided on one name - (Y/N) - and that's how she got her name.


      Greece continued to stare at his open hands, feeling as if his heart was being ripped up. He remembered that day clearly, and just how he felt at that time. He never wanted a child, he didn't want to raise one. He didn't want to be a father, either. Yet, in the end, he acted like a father. Of course, that wasn't how it always was. Just the first few years. Greece continued to stare dully at his hands, feeling his eyes stinging with un-shed tears. He was now remembering when he first introduced that beautiful child to all his friends at one of the many world meetings.


     Greece held onto the little girl's hand, carefully walking her toward the building. It had been five years since he had first picked her up. She had grown very much, but still she was a child. The country had taken good care of her, but there still remained the problem of her poor health. Winters were especially poor for her, but still she lived through it all. Fortunately, Greece remained warm throughout the year - at least, warm compared to the day she was born. The two continued to walk into the building, carefully stepping as to not trip.

       He had finally gathered enough nerve to take her with him. At one point, England had brought America, and France Canada, why couldn't Greece bring his child? Of course, that was many years ago. He walked down one of the many hallways, still holding onto the child's hand. She looked curiously around, round face flushing pink with excitement. She was usually locked in the house all day, it was rare she got out. After seeing several people, she got nervous, gripping onto Greece's pant-leg.

      There was specifically one person staring at her, trying to comprehend. It didn't take long for the other country to walk over and smile down at her. Turkey - though rude to Greece - did love children. He patted the girl's head, causing the tears in her eyes to disappear. She stared up at his face, curious. She reached forward and grabbed onto Turkey's hat. He laughed before turning to glare at Greece. He stood tall, asking 'Why do YOU have a child, Greece?'

      The Greek had replied, 'Because I found her, why else?' The conversation had ended there. Greece had walked into the meeting room, leading the child ever farther into his life. Once he sat down, she climbed on top of his lap, peering over the table. There were only a few other countries sitting around, chatting earnestly with each other. It wasn't until the meeting began did other countries notice the toddler sitting on Greece's lap. The first one to notice happened to be Spain - he had always loved children.

       "Greece!" he had said, "Whose this cutie-pie, you brought, mi amigo?"

       The Greek gently wrapped his arms around the girl's torso, "This is (Y/N)," he admitted, "I've been raising her the past five years."

       At this, France had been drawn into the conversation, "Is...she a human, then?" France asked somberly, "I've told you about human interaction, Greece, non?"

       Greece sighed, "It's just a temporary thing, I think," he said, "She'll be an adult in no time, and I'm sure she'll leave then, right?"

      She wrapped her arms around Greece's neck, "I don't wanna!" she cried out, "I don't wanna!"


      There were others around, silently crying at their loss or trying their hardest not to. Even those tougher countries - like Germany and Prussia - seemed to be crying in the back. Russia had even attended the funeral. He was sitting two rows behind Greece, face obscured by his hair and scarf. Greece even heard Ukraine and Hungary sobbing loudly somewhere else. Italy and Romano were sitting with Spain - where Italy was sobbing into Spain's shoulder, and Romano was looking the opposite direction, but there were no doubt tears streaming from his eyes too.

      Yet, no one's anguish compared to that of Greece's. He had been there from the beginning, to the very end. The other countries had only recently jumped onto the bandwagon. But...even so...they had all grown fond of Greece's child. No matter who you'd ask, they'd all agree that (Y/N) was one of the best humans out there. He had felt guilty to have done such a thing to her...right before she died. He gripped the edge of the seat down, not even attempting to hide is anguish now.


      "Greeeeeeeeeeeece~!" she called out, "Can I please go to Italy's house~?"

      Ten years had passed from the previous memory. She was much older - fifteen now - and she looked different. Yet, to Greece, she was still that little baby he found on the street. He gently pulled the blanket from his face, wide awake now. She was bouncing up and down in her shoes, her long (h/c) locks framing her joyous face. It was rare to see her so smiley when she wasn't sick. She usually locked herself in her room, reading books or sleeping. Greece smiled as he sat up from bed, opening his arms for a hug. The teenager complied, leaping into his arms. She nuzzled her nose into the side of his face.

       "I'll take that as a yes!" she squealed, "I can't wait! Italy said that England's there, visiting. I want to go and ruffle his hair and ask him about his magic more! I promise, I'll be back by midnight. C'ya!"

       She gently kissed Greece's forehead, readying to run out the room. He grabbed her wrist quickly, catching her before she collapsed to the ground. She laughed, quickly thanking him. Even so, he didn't release her wrist.

      He gave her a smile, "Before you go, (Y/N)," he said slowly, "I bought you a present, and I want you to wear it. Okay?"

     Maybe he would then compare to England, after giving her this present. For several years, she had grown attached to that Englishman, and it made Greece jealous, even if he didn't admit it. He dug through his side table's drawer, finally pulling out a small box. He placed it in her hand as gently as he could. He watched as she gently opened it. Just like that, her face lit up, and flushed too. The teenager pulled out a long, golden locket. She quickly draped it over her neck, opening it. Her face went even more red. Inside was a picture of her and Greece - a few years before - cuddling on the couch and watching movies all day.

      She felt tears spring to her eyes, "Thank you, Greece," she hugged him once more, "I really love it, okay? I got to go now. I promise I'll return! I'll always return, so don't worry, yeah?"

      Deep in his heart, he felt that it was a mistake allowing her to go to Italy's house. He hadn't expected her to end up in the hospital. If had said something, she surely would have been better. This was the very beginning of Greece's eternal heartbreak. For the next five years, she would be practically living in the hospital. Whatever had happened to her at Italy's house, she never admitted. Greece understood that England and Italy were scared by her sudden illness too.


     Japan sat down beside Greece, attempting to comfort his friend. The man patted the Greek's shoulder, trying to urge his friend to stop crying. Even though Japan wasn't crying, he looked as if he was about to. Several people had all ready left, glad to be away from the sadness. Yet, those closest to (Y/N) remained. Even England was still there, sitting in front of the casket. Greece stood to his feet now, still feeling he anger inside his chest. He marched right toward the Englishman, shoving him to the side slightly. Usually, he wasn't a violent person. Yet, Greece could remember a similar situation.


     Greece had only just arrived at the hospital, just in time to see her hooked up to an IV. His heart had broken in to many pieces at the sight of her pale skin. She had looked so healthy hours before, but no she looked like her mother had on that deadly silent day. Greece refused to leave her presence, now. He was afraid that she too would disappear. He stayed in the hospital for nearly two weeks, watching over her constantly sleeping form. He hadn't expected all his friends to show up to visit (Y/N), especially England.

      However, at the sight of the Englishman, Greece couldn't help but grow angry. He was there when she had collapsed. Yet, he hadn't used any magic to make her better. He had stood up from the chair, shoving England against the wall. However, the Englishman still didn't do anything. He just allowed Greece to hit him several tears before finally collapsing onto the ground himself. He had stared at his hands, green eyes hard and irritated.

      "I'm sorry," he said, "I'm really sorry, Greece. I didn't know it was her. I didn't know...I'm sorry."

      Greece had tears streaming down his face at this point, "Just...fix her! Make her wake up!" he had demanded, "I can't live without her!"

      That was when England had realized just how bad the situation was, "You...you love her, then?" he had asked, "You weren't supposed to. France had warned you, Greece. He warned you what would happen. Why did you ignore him? I know it's France, and he's a wanker, but he knows..."

      The Greek buried his face in his hands, "You think I tried to fall in love, huh?" he whispered, "I only wanted to do a good thing. Is it that bad?"


      Greece gripped the edge of her coffin, staring down into her dead-pale face. Even if England helped him many times with her, he still despised him. He let out a sob, leaning over her body. Her (h/c) lay around her, perfectly framing her face like it did on that sad day. It had been a week since her passing - even so, he couldn't let go. He was a country, it shouldn't have bothered him that much. He could remember that moment perfectly, even through his hazy mind. Yet, all he could think about was how he had told her how he loved her - how he wished he could take it back.


     She was awake, for the first time in a week. Even with all the medical attention she had seen over the past five years, she wasn't getting any better. She held Greece's hand, dully smiling up at him. He had come over early to wish her a 'Happy Birthday'. Of course, her life was never planned to last until twenty, but she still remained. Greece was grateful for whatever god had granted this wish of his. If only she would get better.

       "Hey, (Y/N)," he whispered, "Can I tell you something important?"

       The young woman nodded slightly, "Y-yeah, please," she replied, "Anything to distract me will do."

       Greece sucked in a deep breath, trying not to cry at the sight of her, "It's been five years, since you've been admitted to the hospital. Do...you think you'll get better?" he said, slowly as usual, "I'm not in a rush for you to get better. I have until the end of time."

       "That doesn't seem like its important," she murmured, "But...Greece, you...you know...don't you? I'm not a country like you. I can't just regenerate, or get better like you can. I won't live past twenty-one."

      He sighed, "You torment me so, (Y/N)," he muttered, "Can't you tell? When I compare you to Aphrodite, you look as if you're better. When I tell you that you're going to live on, you look worse. Why can't you just admit that you'll live?"

        Her smile faltered, "Because I don't want to crush you, Greece."

       He couldn't wait any longer. Greece gripped her hand tightly, "(Y/N), I love you," he admitted.

       She didn't hesitate, "I love you too, Greece," she immediately replied.

        "No, you miss-understand me," he said, "I love you."

        Her pale face filled with pink, "I love you too, Greece," she repeated, "You know."


      The problem remained around him. Greece loved her so much, he would probably never forget her. Had he really drifted down to France's level of internal agony? He wished that he would never have loved her. He wished that he would have never kept her. He wished that he had never even met (Y/N), that it had been some other man to have found her dying mother. He didn't want to have to endure so much pain in his heart because of some sort of 'fate' that he had believed in at the time. Yet, was it fate that he had saved her?

       He was in total agony that he cursed his own name for finding her. He should have followed France's demands. He shouldn't have kept her. He should've put her in the orphanage. Yet, by the time he had even considered it - he had fallen in love with a dead woman. Perhaps, if they had never met, she would have lived - or maybe she would have died when she was a child. At least, she wouldn't have had to suffer like he was.


       In the end, she got much worse. She could not even breathe without a machine, and she couldn't even move much. Greece had vowed to stay at her side until she got better - but they both knew it wasn't going to come. Even now, as he's asleep beside her, (Y/N) recognizes it was time. Yet, she didn't want to leave until she had at least said goodbye to Greece. She began to call out his name, trying her best to wake him. Fortunately, France had shown up at that time.

        "Hey, mon ami," he shoved Greece, "Wake up, (Y/N)'s trying to tell you something."

      Greece had immediately opened his eyes, standing up as if something bad has happened, "What's going on?" he gripped onto her hands, "Tell me, what's wrong?"

      "I want to tell you something," her voice was barely there, "It's important, please listen closely."

      France settled into the chair on the other-side of the bed, watching the two closely. Greece hung onto her every word, even as she was slowly growing weaker.

       "Don't ever, ever regret what you did," she stated, "You're a brave man, raising a baby on your own without any help. You must continue on, Greece, without me. I can't hold you down any longer. Live on for me, okay? Take lots of pictures too. And...take this,"

        She opened her fingers just enough to show Greece the locket. Greece was confused at what she said, but still listened, taking the locket from her hand. He held it in his own, finally recognizing what she was going to say.

       "No, no (Y/N) don't give up yet," he pleaded, "Please, just a little longer."

       (Y/N) smiled ever so gently, "I love you, Greece," she whispered, "Please continue to love me too, okay?"

        She then closed her eyes, forevermore.


      Greece removed the locket from his pocket, gripping it in his hands. Everyone around observed as he gently kissed the metal and placed it around her neck. It was beaten down, and the little doors refused to stay shut - but even so, he had given it back to her. His intense sobbing had stopped, and he finally took a step back. He wiped his face on the back of his sleeve, his heart pounding away in his chest. A new array of emotions had filled his empty chest.

      "I don't regret it," he said out loud, "I would do it again in a heartbeat, if it meant I could see you again. I'm glad I loved you, (Y/N). Let's meet again someday, okay? Don't break your promise."

       With that, he left the area, running as fast as he could. All the painful, but joyful memories continued to swirl around in his head. He refused to acknowledge any of the bad ones. He had left behind the love of his life, and she would never return - and he understood this.

       Yet, she stood behind her own coffin, her eyes filled with tears, "I'll see you again, Greece," she said, "Don't wait up."

      She too disappeared, leaving her body behind - the locket of the two of them beaming up to the heavens.