Six Questions

BY : -MatthewWilliams-
Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers
Dragon prints: 237
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

“He’s waking up,” Octavia whispered as the Brit laying on the bed next to them slowly opened his emerald green eyes with a groan. He didn’t do anything more than stare up at the ceiling in confusion.

Victoria was confused, as well. “Is something wrong with him?”

Francis shook his head. “Amoureux, we found him naked on the side of the road. Do you think he’s okay?”

“Well, of course, something’s wrong, but at least he’s not dead.”

“Exactly,” Victoria’s girlfriend, Octavia said, wrapping an arm around the Seychellois.

All six in the room─Francis, his boyfriend, Alfred, Victoria, Octavia, Alfred’s brother, Matthew, and Vladimir, a friend of Arthur’s who had a crush on him─remained silent as they heard Arthur groan and slowly sit up. He wiped the sweat off of his forehead, showing that the white shirt he was wearing was a little baggier on him than had been expected by Alfred, who picked out the shirt and put it on Arthur in the first place.

He started looking around at the large group surrounding him. At Francis, with his long hair and slight stubble on his chin. At Alfred, with his strange cowlick and goofy grin. Vladimir, with his strange clothing and vampire-like fangs. Matthew, with his strange curl and the fact that he was pulling his knees close and hiding his face. Octavia and Victoria, for their much darker skin colour, their generic clothing, and the fact that they looked ready to touch lips at any second.

He groaned again, tapping his forehead lightly─he must’ve either had a headache or thought he was dreaming (however, it is very probable that it was both). He wiped the sweat from it again, taking a second quick glance before he spoke.

“Who are you?”


Francis had fixed Arthur a cup of tea and then gathered with the rest of the group in the living room to talk while the Brit laid in his bed, sipping tea and watching a movie on the television.

Victoria was crying with the back of her head on Octavia’s shoulder as she tried her hardest to dry her tears with a tissue. “HE DOESN’T REMEMBER US!!!!!!”

Octavia petted her gently. “Think about where and how we found him. Bruised and bleeding, stripped, on the side of the road, face down in the dirt, clearly a rape victim. He must’ve gotten amnesia.”

Alfred nodded. “Black whore-“

“Octavia.”

Black whore’s got a point. Head trauma could’ve occurred numerous times! When he was being kidnapped, thrown in the car if he was, thrown into the house, onto the bed or into the bathtub, against the wall I he fought back, while trying to fight back against drugging or inside the car, when he was thrown onto the road or possibly knocked out before being thrown out of the car…”

Octavia huffed. “Must I be a whore?”

“You’re female, you’re black. You are most definitely a whore. Same goes for the thing next to you.”

Instead of trying to break up the argument, Matthew decided to change the subject altogether. “Listen. When cops stumble upon a crime scene, they ask themselves six questions: who did it, what was the motive, when did it happen, where did the crime occur, why did the criminal commit the crime, and how was it done. For us, Arthur is asking six very similar questions: who are you, what is going on, when did I get here, where am I, and why am I here. And we are all going to have to answer those questions!!

“I’ve got an idea. Since there are six questions that need to be answered and there are six of us, each person will answer one question─and one question only. Now, who’s going to answer the first one?”


Arthur sighed, facing him. “May I ask again?”

“Of course.”

“Who are you?”

“Do you mean us as a whole, or just me?”

“I’d really like to know the first thing if you can tell me….”

He nodded, smiling gently, staring into Arthur’s green eyes with his own. “Well, first, there are the two girls. The one in the plaid dress with the red flats and the long pigtails? Her name is Victoria Mancham. She’s really nice, but don’t get on her bad side, okay? She doesn’t like being used at all. The other girl next to her is her girlfriend, Octavia Kendall. She hates Alfred because he’s racist and sexist towards her, so she shoots at him with her gun and curses him out on an hourly─yes, I said hourly─basis. But if you’re nice to her and respectful to everyone around her and that she’s close to, she’s one of the nicest people you’ve ever met, I promise you.

“Speaking of Alfred, he’s a sort of mixed bag. He’s nice to a small number of people, like those he loves, those he grew up around, his friends, the like. But he doesn’t have many friends, and most people that he loves are actually just those people that he grew up around. Everyone else is just another target. He hates the girls for two main reasons─because they’re girls and because they’re not Caucasian. Yes, Alfred’s racist and sexist, but you have to remember one thing, Arthur. Alfred is your son. You are allowed to hate his ways and the way he acts as a whole, but you have to remember that you still love him deep down, because you gave birth to him; because he is your son by blood.

“But there are still three people left to talk about, so I’m going to start with Vladimir. Vladimir was the one with the little hat and the fangs. He has an obsession with folklore, myths, the supernatural, and the like─and so did you! That’s how you met, and that’s why you’re still very close friends. You were part of a small circle of three friends: you, Vladimir, and a boy named Lukas Bondevik. Lukas died three years ago in a car crash. But you two boys thought it was a sign because he was 27, the date was July 7th, 1997, and it happened at 6:53pm─just seven minutes before seven o’clock at night. Seven is an important number in magic, you know. And then you became obsessed with trying to contact Lukas’s ghost.

“But to get off the topic of Vladimir and Lukas right now, because I still have two more people to talk about, don’t I? Why don’t I get right onto the topic of Matthieu? He’s your other son; Alfred is the younger twin and Matthieu is the older one. He’s sweet and quiet around people he doesn’t know, but if he does know them, he can get loud and commanding. He’s engaged to a man from the Netherlands who is away on a year-long business trip right now, but they’re going to get married once he returns from work. They plan to settle down and start a family together. So, let me go over that. You have two drastically different sons, Alfred and Matthieu, you’re friends with two girls whom are despised by Alfred but are very nice overall, and you have a romantic interest named Vladimir.”

Arthur was quiet, trying to process all of the information that had just been laid out before him. He stared at him for a second. “I understand. But I have one more question.”

“Hmm?”

“I know who they are… but who are you?”

“I am your friend. I date Alfred because I know and see the good and him and hope for him to change. We’re friends because we both hope for this to happen. We were brought together because of your son and that is how we will fall apart.”

He nodded, looking into his eyes. “What is your name?”

He was quiet, staring into Arthur’s emerald eyes with his own baby blues. Oh, how he loved Arthur’s eyes. He could stare at them all day if he wanted to, but this was almost the end of question one, and there were still five to go that he couldn't answer. He wanted to stare at them for longer than just about fifteen or twenty seconds, but Arthur needed to know. He needed to know the truth, and this was only the first step.

“Bonnefoy. Francis Bonnefoy.” He kissed Arthur’s cheek with a smile. “Is that all you want to know?”

“There’s more… but I don’t think you want to answer.”

“I’m only here to answer one question, Arthur.” He hugged the Brit, tears pricking the edges of his eyes. “Au revoir.” He slowly let go of him, slowly standing up and leaving the room, hiccoughing in order to avoid sobbing.



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