I have returned! Finally, here I am doing something that's chaptered instead of one-shots (aside from the Harry Potter/Hetalia thing I'm doing)!

Getting to the point though, this is an idea I've had for a month or so. It all stemmed from how much Prussia and Izaya look so much alike. One day, I was thinking about jokes that center around Izaya truly being Prussia; like he dyed his hair, learned Japanese, and wants to screw with people because he has nothing better to do. Then I thought what if Izaya is Prussia but he doesn't know it? It just seems to make sense in it's own little way. They both look alike aside from the hair, they both speak Russian (think East Germany, people), and Izaya talks about humans as if he isn't one and, well, Prussia is a nation. I thought it would be an interesting concept and BOOM! I had a million ideas ready to go. By the way, the title translates to "I am Prussia."

I hope you all enjoy this little cross-over idea I came up with. Please read, review, and enjoy!

Ich Bin Preußen

A Hetalia/Durarara Crossover

Prologue

Berlin, Germany 1934

It hurt. It hurt so much. He couldn't breathe. Hell, he could barely speak. In fact, he could barely stand. He was so weak.

Prussia felt his body shaking as his country was pronounced part of Germany. His brother placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, but it did nothing. Prussia, a great nation, had been dissolved by the Nazi Reich.

"Bruder, I'm sorry…" Germany apologized once it was all over.

"You don't have to apologize for anything," Prussia sighed, his eyes dimmed by what had just happened. "I swear… This damn country's gonna go to hell… I can feel it in my bones…"

Germany frowned at his older brother and put an arm around Prussia's shoulder. "Come on, let's go home…"

…

1947

You know those times where you want to be wrong? Like, you really, really, really don't want to be right about something? That's how Prussia felt. He was right that the country would go to hell and it did throughout the entire war. Now, he and his brother had to pay for it.

Gott… It burns…

The Allies had declared Prussia dissolved. Gone. There was no longer a country called Prussia. He didn't exist anymore. He was no longer Prussia, he was just Gilbert Beilschmidt.

It burns… it burns… it burns!

Getting his status as a nation ripped from him was like getting roasted alive or skinned alive… either one. He felt like something inside of him had been ripped out and torn to pieces, never to be repaired. He cried and cried as his soul was ripped out of him. He cried until he had no more tears left to shed and then cried some more, sobs coming out dry. Germany could only watch as his brother was reduced to tears, the former nation becoming so weak and so fragile.

It hurts… I wish I wasn't a nation. That way, I could die and no longer feel any pain…

Eventually, Gilbert was on the floor, breathing laboriously. It felt like flames were licking his skin and then entering his veins, burning him to a crisp from the inside out. In due time, the sensation was lost and he no longer felt a thing connected to his country. Prussia was no more.

"The country of Germany shall be split amongst the Allies," England announced, glaring at the two countries. "France, America, and I will have the Western part and Russia will take the Eastern part. Does that sound fair?"

"What about Gilbert?" Germany demanded, glaring up at the Allies.

"He will act as East Germany for now," England said and Russia walked forward, grabbing Gilbert's arm.

"You'll be coming with me, da?" Russia smiled, dragging Gilbert with him.

"Wait! Let him go!" Germany protested as the Russian dragged the albino away.

"It is useless to resist," Russia chuckled as he took Gilbert away. "Besides… all will become one with Russia…"

…

Berlin, Germany 1989

"Let me through, let me through!"

A scruffy-haired albino pushed through a throng of people, elbowing people in the sides and pushing some to the ground. It didn't matter; he needed to get the front. He could sense something great was happening, something life changing…

"Move, move!" he shouted and then found himself standing in front of the Berlin Wall, watching as the concrete terror was dismembered by West and East Germans alike. A smile spread across his face and he ran up to a man swinging at the wall with a hammer. "Can I borrow this?"

The man nodded and the albino grabbed the hammer, slamming it against the wall with all his strength. Some of the concrete splintered and broke away, leaving a small dent. Striking again and again, the man soon punched a hole through the wall, big enough for him to stick his hand out and to look out of. While peering out with a blood red eye, he spotted a tall man with slicked-back blonde hair and blue eyes. His pulse quickened and he began to tear more of the wall apart, determined to reach the other side.

Eventually, he had broken through and raced towards the blonde man, embracing him quickly. The two brothers, separated for decades, hugged, laughed, and even cried (which they would never admit to doing if asked). Ludwig and Gilbert were reunited and with them, Germany was one country once more.

…

"Gilbert…? Are you okay?"

Gilbert looked up from watching the fire in the fireplace, the orange glow illuminating his face in a rather eerie way. He had been staying in Germany's house for at least a week after the wall went down and although he had at first seemed delighted to be out of Russia's grasp, he had mellowed out and then lounged around the house, all excitement gone from his once cheery face. His eyes had grown dim and he no longer declared himself the "awesomest-person-in-the-world." Gilbird didn't even make him happy. It was all very troublesome and it made Germany very nervous.

It truly was a feat to make the mighty Germany nervous and Gilbert had accomplished it.

"I… I'm fine, West…" Gilbert sighed, turning his eyes back to the burning embers of the fire.

"No, you're not," Germany frowned, walking over to his brother. "Bruder, you're not acting like yourself…"

"I'm sorry I've been such a bummer but…" he sighed heavily. "I miss being a country… It feels so wrong not to be like that anymore…" His ruby eyes narrowed and he clenched his fists. "I… I want to go somewhere else… I can't be here anymore…"

"Gilbert," Germany said. "It's going to be fine. How about I get you a beer?"

Gilbert nodded silently and Germany left the room to get a beer. The former nation stared into the fire again, settling on a decision. Germany walked back in and handed the beer bottle to Gilbert.

"Here," he said. "I'm going to go to bed. Make sure to turn in sometime soon."

"Got it, West…" Gilbert muttered as he uncorked the bottle.

The other walked upstairs, leaving the albino to his own devices. Gilbert took a sip from the bottle and licked his lips, disappointed. When had the beer become so bland? When had life become not worth living? He clenched his teeth and tightened his fists. Dammit! He threw the bottle at the wall across from him, sending glass and beer spraying everywhere.

He put his head in his hands, letting out quick shuddering breaths. He had to go. He had to leave this damn country. Something was pulling him away from it all, he could feel it.

Gilbert got to his feet, shaking a bit, and snuck up quietly to his room, packing his suitcase quickly.

Have to go, have to leave…

He tiptoed past Germany's room and ran into the kitchen, finding a paper and pen. He scrawled out a note, grabbed Gilbird, and left through the back door, running out into the rain.

And no one, not a single soul, had heard from Gilbert Beilschmidt ever since.

Until the 21st century…