First upload! *Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaangelvoiceeeeeeeeeeeees*

Hello Hetalia fandom! I hope I don't disappoint you~ ^u^

Okay so this is the introductory chapter for Behind The Tower Door, a fic containing adventure and feels with a bit of action mixed in between, so feel free to criticize along the way although this chapter will be more a show of my writing style as well as the feel of this particular story. Anyway since my narrative is even worse than my attempt at humor let's crack on :3

OH almost forgot, shout out to my anonymous rp friend who got me to finally upload this thing after just having a summary stuck in my documents for almost a year :D

I DO NOT OWN HETALIA! If I did then there would be MOER UPDATES & SEASONS! *dundunduuuuuun*

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Chapter 1: The Streets of Rome

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Monochrome is one of the many words that could be used to describe the market. Sure the fruits and gems were exotic and colourful, the clothes worn and shown varied to an extent, but one thing was all the same. It was the people, the daily passersby, the old and new shop keepers, and most of all the guards placed around merely to flaunt the power of the law. Little did the public know of the shadowed figure creeping out of sight of the beige streets, coming closer to its prey.

"Excellent choice, come again soon!"

An anonymous fish salesman stands idly by. He tries to make ends meet by attracting the public to his wares. His sales today will decide whether his family will eat tonight. Whether the salesman was distracted long enough will decide whether the shadow can eat today. It's a dog eat dog world, and this hunt will cost more than he will gain.

The shadow knows this very well. He knows almost everything that happens in the market, all the gossip, all the secrets.

This is because, like many other shadows, he is ignored, invisible to even the kindest. Even so, he carries out his plan.

"Yes-yes! Only the best sold here!"

Moving slow, the shadow uses great delicacy to climb swiftly onto the cloth roof of the stand without sound or sight. Carefully he pauses to see how noticeable he was. No words about the roof, or about his presence. He saw a group of travellers come near the store and grabbed his chance.

"Come one come all! Fresh fish straight from Tuscany!"

He bent over the side just slightly. The travellers had come to the stall, better yet had lured the stand owner away and were facing a different direction. Quickly he glanced at the array of fish, instinctively picking out the ones he new from experience could be eaten raw.

Choosing his target - something not too big and noticeable but made for a decent meal - he took one last glance at the owner and travellers before bending himself just far enough to pick a single fish up by its tail. With a great use of strength and stealth, he quickly lifted himself back up and sat in silence until the travellers had left.

Finally, he breathed. He swiftly returned to the alleyway to take a rest on solid ground.

Doing such criminal acts always stressed him out, even more than when he got caught. He knew he had to eat but he couldn't help over thinking about what he was taking from others. It was the game of life, either you're born with the ability to make your own means of survival, or steal from those who can with your life at risk. He hated it. The people he stole from would never know what they've lost, or if they did know they would feel anger and hatred towards him for just trying to live. It wasn't fair, but he was very used to it by now.

At least, that's what he liked to think. In truth he was barely convinced he should even be alive. He didn't deserve the life he had, no one did.

But he had to live no matter what, at least until he could-
"Well, well, well."

The shadow turned quickly, hearing the familiar echo of a guard's authoritative voice. There were three coming from the only other way through the alley. "Caught you red handed again huh? Well this time you're not getting away!"

Damn it! The only way out was the market and that meant more witnesses to his 'crime'. "Don't even think about running, the market is full of guards." They said it as though he didn't know fully well already. At the same time, he was not going to prison now.

With guards shouting behind and the fish tight in his grasp, the shadow dashed off into the crowds. Skillfully he dodged past blurs of people, taking note of the guards who caught on to him and guards who hadn't. He was running out of safe streets, gathering a mass of guards and overhearing tactical orders for his capture being given. He had to find-
There! A guard who wasn't paying attention standing just out the way of a narrow alleyway. He had one chance.
Pacing himself,
timing it right,
and-

Made it! Just in time, barely missing the guard and shooting down the tight space. He knew the alleys like the back of his hand, and he knew the guards couldn't run down here like he could. Dodging past objects, jumping over rubble, effortlessly repeating actions copied from pure déjà-vu. His legs thumped in their steps, momentum only carrying him now as he slowed down. Finally he paused for a moment, hearing the noise of the guards die down. The shadow closed his eyes and concentrated past his fast beating heart and cold sweat to imagine his internal map, picking which routes would be safe.

Finally he set his route, and headed home.

...…...

The sun was already setting by the time he reached his tiny, abandoned home. Planks of wood hung loosely on top of rubble in case it rained, and there were little more than a couple of rags for bedding. Among his kind he was rich, though it was more his own persistence.

He put his meal on the cleanest part of his 'shelter' and rested himself, leaning his tired body against the rocky wall. Looking at it now, large chunks of the fish had been lost in the chase, dirt and rocks covering its once perfectly appealing scales.

What a waste.

As he casually began his ruined meal, he scornfully thought back on the guards who were at fault. He hated guards, despised them. Undeserving keepers of the law who are as fair as they were knowledgeable of the people they put away. They were cruel, sadistic, you could just tell by looking in their eyes.

Finishing his meal, the man took one final look outside his small makeshift home, staring at the dim light bathing the streets to a calming golden-beige. Another day over, another day begins, the cycle turning ever faster.

There was no point in thinking about it now. He rested himself down, creating a small pillow from dirty rags, and lay opposite to the open space. The sun would bother him, but there was no reason to stay up anymore. Maybe one day he will gain a reason for everything he does, but until then he would stay alone and insignificant; just another shadow to avoid. Silence fell on the streets and the man tried his best to lie still despite irritable clothing and knowledge of the coming cold. He imagined warm hands and a familiar voice, telling him sweet white lies and possibilities of coming days. He oh so wished for the company he once had, but his past created a meaning for his future.

Feeling determined to face the world once more; he whispered to himself words from memory.

"Goodnight, Ludwig."

And that was that! In my opinion it's kind of short :/ But it's certainly not the end! Depending on schooling I may update this once a week or once every two weeks, but expect updates on Saturdays nonetheless :)

Please tell me if you have enjoyed or have any form of advice for me in the future, see you next time fellow Hetalians~