A world where everyone has a countdown above their head, indicating when they are going to die. A rule that fate cannot be messed with, for if someone does not die when they are supposed to, someone else will die in their place. And a boy who could not help but save the blond he saw on the street with only five minutes left to live.

Warning: Swearing probably. Angst/Romance.

Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.

He stared into the backpack that lay in front of him – covered completely in the red, white, and blue of his country's flag, of course – and went over a mental checklist. Enough clothes to last a week, possibly two or three if he wore things more than once – check. Toiletries – check. Snacks – check. Entertainment, money, a knife just in case – all check. He'd grab his phone's charger on the way out, as well. He didn't know when he would get the chance to charge his phone, or if he'd get a chance at all, but it was best to be prepared.

Honestly, he didn't even know when he'd leave, didn't know if he'd actually go through with his crazy idea of running away in the first place. He'd come close to it before, though, when family or school or just life in general seemed like too much to deal with. He figured that if he did it, he'd be smart about it, and so he had packed anything he'd need to keep himself alive and had a destination to a cheap motel in mind. He could leave at a second's notice, if he really wanted to.

Despite how sure he was in himself, he still felt like he was forgetting something important. Like if he left, he'd suddenly find himself in need of the one thing he happened to leave behind. Maybe he was just paranoid. Maybe it was his conscience's way of telling him that he didn't really want to leave in the first place. He tried to ignore the latter option.

"Al?" his brother called, poking his head into his room from the open doorway, blond hair bouncing in place. "Um, you might've forgotten, but it's Monday. We need to leave soon or I'll be late for practise."

Alfred rolled his eyes, picked up the backpack and carried it away to his closet, shielding it behind his body in a way that he hoped would keep it hidden from his brother. He could be way too nosy at all the wrong times. "Um, you might've forgotten," he mimicked, badly copying his brother's voice. Even without looking, he could tell that Matthew's eyebrows were furrowed in annoyance. "You're allowed to yell at me, you know? Tell me to get a move on? Like jeez, you're becoming more of a pushover every day, Mattie."

"Fine," his brother huffed, "hurry the hell up because I've got places to be, asshole," Matthew said coldly, yet as Alfred glanced at him over his shoulder, he saw that he was smiling and leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, having entered his room at some point. A small bag lay at his feet, which Alfred knew contained a change of clothes and whatever else it was that he took with him to practise. "Also, lose some weight."

"Okay, that was rude and I'm telling Mom," Alfred said. He dumped the backpack in the back of the closet before returning to his brother. They held each other's stare for a few long seconds, then both burst into a fit of childish giggles. After a moment, he was able to calm down and grabbed his car keys, twirling them around his finger. "C'mon, let's get you to your gymnastics class, princess."

They made their way downstairs, Matthew muttering something about how gymnastics wasn't girly and how his coach had recommended it so he could stay in shape during hockey's off-season. Alfred shook his head and talked about how he was just making excuses, and Matthew smacked his arm.

Moments like these were the ones he loved, the ones he thought back to when reconsidering his plan to run away. Friends came and went, but siblings were forever, and while some considered that a curse, Alfred thought it to be a blessing. His brother could understand him in ways that no one else could, and maybe it was the fact that they were twins that made them especially close. He and Matthew could tease each other because no matter what they said, they both knew it was only a joke that meant no harm. Every little insult was a cleverly masked I care or please don't hurt yourself. It was just a shame they'd never learnt to say I love you.

He knew they were flawed, how their little "system" would probably be shot down as terrible and offensive. But it worked, and that was all that mattered. When you didn't know love, only heartbreak, it was difficult to be affectionate. He figured it was one of those situations you had to be in, in order to truly understand. The things they were too afraid to tell each other, they were able to communicate anyway. Yet despite it, he'd noticed a growing gap between him and his brother. They weren't as close as they'd used to be, and he had no idea why. That was what frustrated him the most. If his brother stopped telling him he cared in the only way Alfred knew how to comprehend, then he feared he did not care at all.

Was his brother hurting, and he'd missed it somehow? Was that what changed him? Alfred knew all too well what a bleeding heart could do to a person.

"Hey Matt," he said once they were both comfortably seated in his car. He took a moment to push the keys into the ignition and listened as the old pick-up – his sixteenth birthday present, the best his mother could afford – sputtered and roared to life. "You'd tell me if there was something bothering you, right?" he asked, avoiding looking at his brother as he pulled out of the driveway.

Matthew was silent for a moment, then, "Honestly Alfred, I'm surprised you even need to ask that."

He bit his lip, trying to keep his gaze on the road ahead. It was a surprisingly nice day. Where they lived, it rained often, so the clear blue sky was something he tried to appreciate. They could use more sunny days. Right now, however, he felt it clashed with his sombre mood. It was like the universe was mocking him, somehow. "I know. It's not that I don't trust you or anything, it's just... I need assurance, I guess."

He heard his brother sigh, and braved a quick glance in his direction to see that Matthew was staring out the window, appearing to be somewhere else. His gaze shifted to the black numbers above his brother's head, but he saw nothing abnormal. "Of course I'd tell you, Al. And you'd tell me too, right?"

"Right."

"No matter what?"

"No matter what."

And yet, his stomach twisted with unease.

The next day, it stormed.

Ever since his talk with his brother – the closest thing they'd ever had to a heart-to-heart – Alfred's thoughts steadily grew more and more panicked. It wasn't often that he over-thought things; in fact, he tended to accept the simplest solution to a problem, even if it didn't make sense, just because that was the easiest thing to do. But every once in a while, something came along that made his gut churn and mind restless. This was one of those cases.

As he stocked shelves at the small grocery store he worked at, he couldn't get his brother's strange behaviour off his mind. Of course, he'd jumped to the worst case scenario. What if his brother was planning something reckless, he wondered as he briefly remembered his own plans to run away, among other unsavoury things he'd considered. It did make sense that twins would share the same toxic thoughts. He didn't want to imagine his brother in any of the situations he'd put himself into while staring up at the ceiling on countless sleepless nights.

He pulled the final bags of chips from the box and placed them in their proper spots on the shelf. After briefly glancing over his work to make sure everything was right, he allowed himself to look boredly out the large window in front of him. Many people walked past the store, huddled within themselves to try to preserve any warmth in the rainy weather. Most of them were wearing thick coats, hoods, or held umbrellas, though every once in a while someone walked by with nothing. He almost felt bad for them.

He looked at the black numbers hovering above their heads, couldn't stop thinking about his brother's own. Countdowns. An elderly man strolling by with his wife was labelled 004:84:05:28:06, while a young girl across the street with her mother was 098:204:08:04:28. The countdowns showed the years, days, hours, minutes, seconds that remained... until their deaths.

Everyone had a countdown, though they weren't able to see their own. Being only sixteen, he'd assume that he had a good 50+ years left, but there was also the possibility of him being fated to die from an accident or disease, which would cut his time short. He'd never know for sure, though, because they weren't allowed to tell someone what their countdown said, either. Well, it wasn't as if they couldn't, more like they shouldn't.

Telling someone what their countdown said would put them on edge. They'd know something they were never meant to know, and it was said that some people had gone insane after learning when they were meant to die. Alfred thought that was an overreaction, but he supposed he couldn't speak for everyone.

Some people tried to avoid the countdown. If they found out their time of death and they were meant to die from an accident, for instance, they would do whatever they could to make sure nothing was around that could kill them, such as staying at home in bed that day. That was messing with fate, and if a person didn't die when they were supposed to, someone else would die in their place. Usually, it'd be whoever was at fault for the death not happening; the person who had warned them. But by allowing someone else to die, they'd save themselves.

In some cases, fate could be changed without consequence. Diseases could be cured, and doctors were able to use the countdowns to their advantage, so they'd know if they were really successful in saving someone. Murders, suicides, and certain accidents could be prevented, as well. But sometimes, someone was just meant to die, and there was nothing that could be done about it.

It'd happened with his parents. When he was still young, no older than four, his mother's bus was supposed to crash and kill her. His father got in the way of that, and soon after, he died when he fell down a flight of stairs. It was a cruel system, but it was life.

Matthew's countdown had been as normal as it'd ever been, but Alfred was still worried. Sometimes, countdowns changed at the very last moment, making someone unable to be saved even if they could be. It was often the case with suicides. The death would happen, the only question was when.

"Alfred, kiddo, your shift's over. You can leave," he heard from behind him. The voice startled him out of his thoughts and he glanced over his shoulder to see his boss grinning at him from behind the counter. He'd probably noticed him doing nothing but staring out the window for the past few minutes but decided to go easy on him, as he always did when Alfred spaced out. Romulus Vargas was prone to zoning out occasionally himself, so he didn't blame his employees for it. Along with Alfred, Romulus' twin grandsons worked at the store, as well as some older girl he hadn't bothered to learn the name of.

He nodded at Romulus before leaning down to pick up the box he'd been unpacking, carrying it to the backroom for Romulus to dispose of later. He dropped his name tag in the little spot Romulus had reserved for his things, as he always forgot the small piece of plastic at home otherwise, grabbed his schoolbag, and made his way out of the store.

Now that he was out on the street he'd been staring at, he realised that it felt even gloomier than it'd looked from the comfort of the store. Puddles covered every inch of the sidewalk and road, and occasionally, a car rushed by and narrowly missed soaking him in mud and dirty water.

The rain pounded down on him, and it seemed that it wouldn't matter if a car splashed water all over him or not because in what felt like seconds, his hair was plastered around his face and his clothes clung to him like he'd just taken a shower in them anyway. He grumbled to himself as he made his way down the street, head ducked down to keep the water out of his face.

He reached the end of the street and paused as he waited for the light to turn red so the cars would stop. A few people stood near him: a horde of young adults and angry-looking businessmen, as well as a little old lady with just over a year left on her. He tapped his foot, then regretted the action when the muddy water somehow made its way into his shoe.

The cars slowed to a stop and everyone started across the street. Alfred walked at the back of the group, not caring to mix with the loud twenty-something year olds who were complaining about people walking too slowly. The light turned green again just about two seconds before he stepped onto the opposite sidewalk.

He pushed past people and continued walking, sticking close to the shops as though they'd somehow shield him from the rain. He cursed himself for not bringing an umbrella, as his mother always reminded him to. Well, at least she used to before her own depression took control of her life, but he liked to pretend that hadn't happened.

The walk home was relatively boring. It was the same thing he saw every single day, except perhaps weekends. Even on days he didn't work, it was the same route he took home from school. He passed the same stores, the same people, the same graffitied alleyway with the same abandoned box of items from "The Love Boutique" that people always complained about but never made a move to get rid of.

He appreciated the easy routine. He wouldn't have wanted to face something new every day, being constantly on guard. But at the same time, he wished for something to make the bland days a little more worthwhile. With nothing to look forward to, weeks blended into each other and before he knew it, they were five or six months into the year when he felt like it had only just begun.

Confident that his feet would take him home while his mind was elsewhere, Alfred forgot just where he was and tripped as he stepped off the curb, onto the street. He landed heavily in a deep puddle and thoroughly splashed water all over himself and whoever was unlucky enough to be walking near him.

"Sorry!" he immediately blurted to the older man just in front of him, who only sent him a nasty look over his shoulder in response and continued on. Other people, however, were not as willing to let the incident slide.

"Watch where you're going, idiot!" an accented voice said from beside him. He lifted his gaze to be met with striking emerald eyes.

Alfred liked to give people chances, didn't want to judge based on appearance alone because he thought anything had the potential to be something beautiful. But eyes were the windows to the soul, weren't they? And when he looked into those eyes, he didn't see meadows or deep forests. He didn't see cat's eyes or fresh cut grass or even the sea. What Alfred saw was bitter. He saw acid. Venom. The colour of envy and jealousy, malevolence and spite. And he wondered how such a thing could ever be considered beautiful.

The boy was around his age, a bit shorter than him with windswept sandy-blond hair and skin pale like he'd never seen sunlight. He was dressed in a beige sweater with a dark purple jacket over top of it and matching plaid pants, now covered in muddy water thanks to him. To complete the look, he had a black tie tucked neatly beneath his sweater. Alfred quickly recognised the outfit to be the local private school's uniform. He also held a black umbrella in one hand and a schoolbag with the Union Jack on it in the other.

"Sorry, dude," Alfred apologised again. The guy continued to glare at him and Alfred stared back. They stood in an awkward silence for a few moments. "Um, I'm not sure what else you expect from me," Alfred finally said.

The Brit – Alfred decided he sounded like he was from London or something – shook his head and sighed. "Whatever," he said, brushing past him to go the opposite way. "Goodbye."

And that was it.

He absently looked back over to the boy as he disappeared further down the street, wondered if they could have been friends if he had paid a little more attention to what he was doing. Then his gaze trailed up, more on impulse than anything else, to the black numbers above his head. For a second, his breath got caught in his throat.

This kid was going to die in five minutes.

He wasn't sure what possessed him in that moment, but before he could even stop and think, he was tearing after the other blond. Perhaps it was just his conscience, some voice in the back of his mind screaming, "this person in front of me is literally about to die and I wouldn't be able to sleep well ever again knowing I let that happen". Or perhaps he just felt for the other boy. They couldn't have been that different. They were both just high schoolers with friends, families that would be devastated. Maybe he had a girl he liked that he was planning to confess to. Maybe he already had. Point was, Alfred wouldn't have wanted to die at such a young age, when there was so much he hadn't done yet. And this boy didn't deserve that either.

He watched the numbers tick down all too quickly as he followed. Five minutes turned into four and fifteen seconds, then three and forty seconds. Finally, he was close enough to grasp the boy's shoulder, who tensed before turning and glaring at him again.

"God, what do you want?" he snapped. And Alfred wasn't all too sure of the answer to that. He couldn't just come out and say, 'look, I know we've only just met, and I know you're mad at me, but you're about to die and I can't let that happen', could he?

"Um," Alfred mumbled, then blurt out the first thing to come to mind. "Let me do something to apologise! You want a coffee or something?"

He didn't really want to get a coffee with the guy. He seemed cranky and like he hated his guts, even though what he did wasn't that big of a deal. But as he watched the numbers continue to fall, Alfred figured he could do it a million times over. As long as no one walked straight to their death while he continued to live with the knowledge of it. And perhaps in a way, that was selfish of him, but he liked to think that he was doing what was right.

"Or something," the boy said.

Alfred blinked owlishly. "What?"

He got an eye roll in response. "You said a coffee or something."

"Oh. What do you want then?"

"For you to piss off!" With that, he stormed off again. Alfred felt himself growing frustrated and a certain B-word danced on the tip of his tongue, but he held it back. Couldn't the guy talk to him for two minutes without throwing a fuss? And the teachers at school had the nerve to call him immature. He was persistent however and reached out to grab him again.

The boy managed to dodge him. "Leave me alone!" he shouted.

"Just wait a sec!" Alfred called after him. They were nearing the street he'd crossed earlier again. "Please wait!"

The boy stopped, much to Alfred's relief, and spun around to face him with an icy glare. "What the hell is your problem?" he demanded. "I told you to go away!"

Alfred opened his mouth to reply, but the words never got the chance to form. He heard the screeching tires before he saw the car. A split second later, it swerved around the corner, and Alfred pulled the boy toward him. He felt the car rush past them, narrowly missing, felt the force of it as it skid right in front of them. Had they been standing a mere inch from where they were, they would have been hit.

He saw from the corner of his eye as the car rammed into a pole, the hood wrapping around it grotesquely as the car continued to push forward, like the driver, obviously intoxicated, was planning on going straight through it. He heard glass shattering along with the sound of groaning metal.

He couldn't bring himself to really look, as if that'd make the situation any more real. He felt the rain and sweat on his body and his heart pounding in his chest. He felt the car barely brushing past him as it flew by. Despite the fact that it was done and over with now, the sensation remained, his skin crawling at the thought of what could have been.

No proper thoughts were able to form in his head. It was a never-ending mantra of we're alive. We're alive. That could have taken us both out. But we're alive. He wanted to feel relief, but he mostly just felt shock. It was true that he had set himself up and was in no place to complain, but that didn't stop the impending hysteria he already sensed forming in the back of his mind.

A small crowd soon began to form and he thought he heard sirens in the distance. He and the stranger he had nearly died with continued to stand frozen in place, unconsciously gripping each other tighter as though they were a lifeline. Alfred wanted to pull the other closer, bury his face in his neck and cry because damn it, I was about to die for you! But he didn't. He couldn't move.

Instead, they let the rain fall around them and listened as a police car and ambulance came and went. The Brit had dropped his umbrella at some point, leaving the rain to soak them both, and as he felt his eyes sting, Alfred couldn't help but think it was funny. Even the sky was crying.

People approached them and asked what had happened, and if they were okay, but neither of them wanted to say anything past a few quiet mumbles. He wasn't sure they had the strength to.

He had looked up just long enough to see the boy's countdown once more, watched the numbers all fall to zero before they reset to a more appropriate time. It had made him wonder whether that meant that his own countdown had skipped forward a few decades.

He didn't know how long they stood there. It could have been a few minutes, or it could have been an hour. But eventually the boy pulled away from him, didn't meet his eyes as he choked out, "What have you done?"

Hey guys! So here I am with a new fic (after not updating for like forever..)! I know I still have His Favourite Mistake to work on. I'm sooo sorry I just lost interest in that for now. I'm pretty slow at updating but I will try my best with this one :c The next chapter is already finished and should be up in a couple of days and after that, I will do my best to update quickly but it is kind of difficult with school and all that. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review! :D