D. N. Angel Fan Fiction / Death Note Fan Fiction / Hetalia - Axis Powers Fan Fiction ❯ Whisky Moonlight ❯ Chapter 1

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Night fall. The dead city. Neon lights flickering on and off like fireflies that slowly were dying in the summer night. No moon, no stars, just the empty dark void of the sky and earth below. In a hidden away corner of this city that had no more light, the sounds of shuffling chairs, soft mutters and a piano being tuned flowed slowly out from down old stairs and through a door labeled "The End"
People all sat around at various tables in the bar, all of which ranged from human to not human, boy to woman, all ages, all of the same mindset; a couple sat at a table near the stage, both male with one being a blonde who sat up quite properly and the other being a brunette eating pasta. Both rarely looked at each other, staring anywhere but. Another blonde, much younger with a long braid behind him, sat at the bar, rubbing his right arm tenderly then looked painfully to his side at a girl with blonde hair under a bandanna as she downed another shot of some unspoken alcohol. A man with messy black hair and panda-like eyes who looked like he wanted to cry, a girl with snow white hair sitting with another albino who both seemed to be fast asleep, a tall boy with a scarf and a cruel grin that stared with intelligence and purple light at the crowds but saw nothing, a pair of black haired idiots who looked like mentally they were far apart; they all seemed to be feeling the same, though what that "same" was could not and was not spoken.
The stage held another person; a man with neat brown hair and glasses who sat at the old piano, feeling out its keys then standing to fix the tuning in it so it was /just/ right. He never smiled, didn't frown, only gave a solemn look as he moved about carefully. He finally stayed put at his seat as the final person walked out; the dead silence furthered though now all of the customers turned to look at that stage with its slightly fluttering light. A girl walked out holding a guitar, her
long black hair in a ponytail; bloodred eyes revealed nothing, feet in sneakers made no noise. She wore baggy jeans, a hole over a knee, a baggy white shirt under a large purple hoodie jacket that almost covered up both hands; a punk? A Goth? A human being or an odd sort of angel? She held the guitar by its neck, the thing itself nothing special, nothing really; still something in her caught the bar goers eyes and so they watched as she moved to the center stage, sat upon the stool there, under the horrible light that flickered slightly, and she pulled it up onto her lap. She closed her eyes for a second, tuning her own instrument, the man at the piano watching her; then she stopped and all was still.
Then she tapped her knee once and the man began first, the girl following with her guitar. In the very short interlude hearts fell further; the air got sad. Then she sang;
"She put him out
Like the burning end of a midnight cigarette
She broke his heart
He spent his whole life trying to forget...."

The boy at the bar cringed and once more stole a glance at the girl with the bandanna; she drank more then moved to looked at him only for the boy to look away sadly. Memories of a past shared shuddered in them both; happy laughter lost to the ages. The thought of a boy who looked a little like him plagued him; he cringed and murmured something out loud softly before grabbing the next glass from the girl and started to drink harshly. She didn't speak. He finished and muttered, " 'm sorry Al, forgive your big brother, forgive me...."
The brunette with the pasta looked up at the words the guitarist sang, light brown eyes staring with rapt attention and life, the hair curl on the side of his head bouncing slightly; the blonde man across from him noticed without looking and turned his gaze down at his near-empty mug. It had been full before, right? He was sure of that. He picked it up and swallowed the last of it, the beer tasteless now, soulless and tasteless and it made him shudder; he muttered his companions name but nothing more. Feliciano? Or was it
Italy? Or was it forgotten forever?

"We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time
But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind......"

The bartender served another two customers, one with shoulder length golden hair and
golden eyes, a girl with a scowl that hid a secret cry; the boy beside her quickly grabbed one of the glasses and after crimson eyes examined it he drank it down. The boy didn't say anything about awesomeness, awesome-sauce, awesome anything; he just drank and let it be refilled by the greenish-brown haired bartender carrying a pink stuffed bunny in overalls. The girl didn't speak either, not even touching her drink, watching as her "companion" took her glass; she reached out to take something, he flinched and pulled back, away from her. She pulled back too, turning a hurt and angry gaze away. The boy tried to speak, he spoke the name Alex; she spoke and said the word idiot. He consumed the next glass with little hesitation and little doubt that though he drank much, he wasn't getting inebriated as he hoped to God he would. "Alex" watched him then took the glass from him, muttering how he'd die if he continued like that; she drank, he smiled just a tiny bit, "you do care....."
A pink haired boy had cried himself silent, sitting back in a chair with a glazed look in his eyes and with a look up those glazed eyes hit the man across from him who was smoking but never looking at the boy. He reached to grab the cigarettes, grabbed the bottle on the table; he was finally watched as the liquid went in then a pink haired head hit the table. The smoker stared with quiet feral eyes but the frown on his face spoke volumes; where had it gone wrong for them? He took in a deep breath of smoke then blew out before turning to the stage again; he muttered, "you use to sing like that too, Shuichi...."

"Until the night....."

Blue hair, long, tied back with a ribbon, the head it was connected to set on the table; a soft groan, a lost thought, he wonders nothing but thinks about everything somehow. Ice blue eyes looked up through glasses, over the table, stared at the girl who played and sang on stage; he frowned at how serene she looked but also sad. He wondered what she was thinking, he knew what she was thinking; the blonde boy to his left snickered, the purple haired boy to his right refused to speak. The blue haired boy turned his eyes from the playing and towards the table again; his blonde companion handed him a glass, he slapped it away, the loud crash turning a few heads though he didn't care. He no longer cared; the man became angry and he growled, trying to hit him. The purple haired one watched, then muttered, "Krad, stop it, can't you see Satoshi's in pain?"

"He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger
And finally drank away her memory
Life is short but this time it was bigger
Than the strength he had to get up off his knees....."

A boy with dark brown almost black hair sat silently, fiddling with the bottle in his hand;
dark eyes stared downward, he barely listened as soft murmurs colored the song being sung. The blonde boy beside him was listening though he also spoke, one hand tightly clamped over his companions wrist; at the mention of a certain missing person his grip tightened and the boy beside him winced, muttering the name Wolfram and a weak apology. Why though? Why apologize? The boy wanted to cry but wouldn't; he wanted to see the one who was missing, an older man with brown hair and brown eyes who once saved his soul and life. But "Wolfram" didn't care.
The couple across from them weren't touching, weren't speaking, weren't acknowledging each others existence. They looked similar with black hair, same features; one was older, his eyes red with bits of black, the other was younger with onyx eyes. The younger watched the boy who apologized, heard "Wolfram" call him Yuuri, heard "Yuuri" whisper another apology. The older drank more, maybe to drown his horrible feelings, maybe to drown himself; he watched "Wolfram" lean to whisper to "Yuuri", he watched "Yuuri" look away. Finally the younger looked away from the group and to the stage; the older glanced at him then drank some more. Ototo, ototo, he never seemed to hear the mental call; he muttered "Sasuke", got a "I hate you, aniki" in return, and sighs ran through him.

"We found him with his face down in the pillow
With a note that said "I'll love her 'till I die."
And when we buried him beneath the willow
The angels sang the
Whisky Lullaby...."

The man with the panda-eyes watched her sing, this girl who once sang with such happiness; was it /him/ that changed her? He put a thumb to his lips and looked to the boy who had the cruel grin; was it /him/ that changed her? He tried to focus but his past returned in secret; a vision, a thought, a boy with light brown hair lying on a bed, a black book in on hand, a bottle in the other. His face, as the song predicted, had been down in the pillow; the man with the panda eyes bit his nail. Another vision, another thought, smiling, so soft, so long ago, and someone's gentle lips touching his; he bit his nail again. Was it the boys? Was it /hers/? Was it just a vision or a memory he was trying to forget? He looked at a table by him where two little white haired children sat in each others arms, both asleep; a glass of some foamy substance waited, watched him, wanting to be grabbed. He kicked the table and it toppled; he then picked the upturned glass up and swallowed whatever had been left in it.
One of the children opened a
dark eye then closed them again; the one in his arms slept on, her head set against his chest. He didn't need to be there, he needed to be there; who else would be there to make sure the panda-eyed man was okay? He spoke gently as not to wake her, "L, be calm; Hanayuki needs her sleep."


A girl with
long black hair watched, listened, cringed and laughed softly, bitterly; no more happy endings? No more hope, no more dreams; her amethyst gaze fell to the boy beside her, his black hair towering over him, his crimson eyes glazed and faraway. Was he not there? Was he dreaming of the boy with red hair, of his beloved sister, of the past and all its horrible things? The girl wanted to scream to shatter this horribly sad air and yet couldn't; something in her wouldn't let her and in her own way she knew why. So she settled for the intoxicating elixir before her; she was warned by a faraway familiar voice to stop but the girl cared not. Let her die, let her suffer, let the pain die away like it was supposed to. The boy stared at her finally and watched her drink, then looked away again.
The pianist seemed off in his world as well, his eyes closed behind light-reflecting glasses; this wasn't the song he wanted to play but it played anyway. The girl with the guitar hadn't even asked for it, she never did; something in him told him to play. Angels, huh? Sweet lullabies? The only one who deserved them from him was far gone and as he finally opened his eyes he glanced at the girl who sang like it was all she had in her then lightly out to the others; the customers looked in pain, they always looked in pain. Pain was almost a requirement for entrance into this bar, this place no one dared really give a name other than “the End”. His fingers played still but he dreamed of a
blonde man with a gun who scowled and yet cried for him. Oh how he wished to cry for him.

"The rumors flew
But nobody knew how much she blamed herself
For years and years
She tried to hide the whisky on her breath....."

A red headed man sat by the window or what was once a window or supposed to be a window. Or never could be a window. He sat silent, still, and then glanced away at the one beside him; her head was down on the table, her breathing was soft but erratic, an empty mug lay in her hand. He frowned, stayed frowning, then reached over to try to pat her head, to touch her, to do /something/; he stopped short though. She wasn't going to like it would she? Touch her and die, "touch me and I'll hate you forever", wasn't that her words? Did he deserve those words? When did it become so unbelievably strained between them? When did his touch start to anger, upset, disturb her? When did she stop saying his name so lovingly? Sasori, Sasori, forever more gone.
A blonde boy, girl, person sat near the "Sasori" and his girl; the blonde was glaring up at the stage, turning his gaze away to glare at the man with the cruel childish grin and purple eyes; there was nothing left for him anymore was there? No, that bastard with the cruel childish grin and purple eyes had taken it all; taken his friend, taken his life, taken his love and killed it all. Damn him, damn him; the blonde's head fell down to the table and his eyes closed. A boy with light brown hair to shoulders, the boy smiled, the blonde silently cried and called out for "Toris"; he with the childish cruel grin and purple eyes spoke, "are you alright Feliks?" "I hate you Ivan," was the answer.

"She finally drank her pain away a little at a time
But she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind...."

The bartender had served everyone so he took his break; he sat against the wall with a tray held closer than even his bunny. His head fell, his body fell, his soul fell; the song ran through his body and all there was left was to weep as it continued. It made him think of a boy with blonde hair and an odd hat, a strange boy who once upon a time had been his friend, his companion, his love; affair? Affair. And it all went to hell so long ago that now the bartender, this "Ryuichi" with a pink bear/bunny, was alone with memories too old to speak of.
"Ivan" was the only one not in pain, not crying, not sad or angry or anything; he alone kept smiling, still grinning, still cruel, his fingers behind gloves were winding into each other through gloves. He was silent but looked happy; his eyes were glowing vibrantly and yet seemed so dull. He watched the girl with silent awe and something else; hidden behind those eyes made "Feliks" hate him and "L" distrust him and yet just watching her kept him from caring. Was it insanity or anger or dare it pain? No, "Ivan" couldn't feel pain.

"Until the night....."

Still they all stood or sat or floated around in similar way. They all were different yet the same; they all wanted, they all needed and wished.
"Ivan" wanted her to open her eyes to him.
"Ryuichi" needed his lover to return and tell him those sweet three words.
"Feliks" wished for "Toris" and yet also for all to end away.
"Sasori" and the girl who wouldn't let be touched, the pianist and the man he missed, all swallowed down into glasses.

"She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger
And finally drank away his memory
Life is short but this time it was bigger
Than the strength she had to get up off her knees......"

"Near" wanted peace for "Hanayuki" to sleep in.
"L" needed to know if the girl who sang such painful songs had been changed by cruelty.
"aniki" wished his "Sasuke" would smile, "Yuuri" wished "Wolfram" would just mourn.
The black haired girl who laughed, her friend, "Satoshi" and "Krad" and even the
purple man, all swallowed up in pain.

"We found her with her face down in the pillow
Clinging to his picture for dear life....."

To never sing again for "Shuichi", though his smoking love wanted him to.
To drown bad memories and hateful memories for "Alex" though the albino needed her just to speak them.
Was it Feliciano or Italy for the one who ate pasta, who stopped smiling so sweet for the blonde who wished he remembered?
A lost little brother, a big brother and a girl and more and more drinking themselves numb and gone; and only the singer keeps up.

"We laid her next to him beneath the willow
While the angels sang the
Whisky Lullaby

Wa s it worth it?
There wasn't even whiskey there to drown them in. No angels, no willows; just a bar filled with people with absolutely no hope left. Them and lots of other alcohols.

< br> "Ivan" stood suddenly and went to the stage grabbing the guitarist, stopping the song. Silence; bloodred eyes looked at him, blue, purple, gold, green, black. Two moved to advance on him, more than two, all; fear? It no longer belonged there.
"let her go," muttered "
"let her continue," whispered "Yuuri".
"let us listen," murmured "Sasori".
"Sabrina?" asked the pianist.
The girl just smiled her broken smile, bloodred eyes staring through all, "I'll be fine. Home now then Ivan?"
"yes, home," smiled "Ivan", directing her from those who'd only started to drown.
Her eyes didn't work but it was obvious in them, "L" saw, "Satoshi" saw, "Feliks" saw, that even she was not immune to the melody of a dying song.
The sounds of ghosts singing was heard, heavy in the air;
Lal alalalalalaaaaaa....."
Veneziano: finally done! And yes it's a horrible crossover; I lost my original part for Feliks and everyone from Sasori after. Please review.
Ivan: Hm.....
Feliks: I like hate you now Vene.....
Veneziano has now tortured; Hetalia, DNAngel, Kyo Kara Maoh, YuYu Hakusho, Naruto, Gravitation, Death Note. I am bad ;3