Well, this was totally written like two years ago but I just now dug it up, so I thought, "Why not just post it, since I don't want it to just keep rotting away in my computer?"
If you came here because you know of Silencer...then you'll quickly realize that this is, like, worded EXACTLY like the actual doujinshi. XDD At least for most of the dialogues. Which was extremely hard and patience-trying, now that I think back on it. But it was fun while it lasted. Why not~?
If you haven't read Silencer before...this fanfic doesn't do it justice. Like, seriously. Go read it. Now. Please. It's so good.
Disclaimer: Hetalia is not owned by me.
Strange.
Old fashioned.
Stubborn.
"I can't agree with this."
...Conservative.
Obsolete.
Unreasonable.
"Can you stop being so unrealistic all the time?" The heavily accented voice cut clearly through all of the other babble that was going on.
"For heavens sake, America, straighten up your back." England rolled his eyes, slapping Alfred's slunched back as the taller blond continued playing a rather violent game on the computer with Tony.
And then another voice cut through.
"Shut up! Anyone that disagrees with me should either be quiet or disappear before me!"
Wide green eyes stared at him.
America woke up.
A ticking noise filled the air, accompanied by only silence. Alfred blinked a few times and then turned to look at the clock. It was eight-twenty in the morning. So…it was just a dream, huh…? He gave a sigh, letting himself relax against the pillows again. He was getting worked up over nothing. How very typical.
But it was rather strange. After all, Alfred only had a few dreams. For some reason, he didn't dream as much as others, and it was completely normal for him to wake up in the morning and completely forget that he had a dream in the first place. But this time it was different. It was a new dream, and it also seemed to be slightly haunting, with large black spots starting to spread through his memory.
Of course, not three minuets after he glanced at the clock, he spotted a pink sticky-note on the ceiling of his room, right above his bed. World meeting today, it stated in bold red. America sat there, staring at it for a few moments. Something didn't feel right to him…it was as if he forgot something important…about…about…
"Ah…I don't want to remember," he finally sighed, completely put out with trying to remember what he forgot a few moments ago. "…I must have said too much yesterday…England would be pissed. After all, everyone knows he's got a horrible temper…" America sighed, finally pushing himself up into a sitting position, looking bleakly around the room. He didn't want to move, but he was going to have to if he wanted to get to the meeting on time. And of course, England would be there, giving him a hard time if he was late, so he might was well be on time just because he didn't really feel like getting yelled at.
So with that, America pushed himself off his bed and forced his half-asleep limbs to move around—grabbing his glasses, brushing his teeth, combing his hair, going downstairs for breakfast, etc. etc. However, throughout the entire routine, which should have been comforting and familiar, he was only thinking of one particular person.
England.
Would he still be mad? England's been known to carry grudges for decades. Centuries. America just didn't want to put himself on England's 'Top Ten List of Nations to Strangle'. Although he already had the sneaking suspicion that he would be number one if such a list existed. The only person that might also have a chance would be France. America wasn't sure which of them England hated more.
Well whatever…I'll just treat him better if I see him today…
England didn't show up.
America frowned, looking sideways at the empty chair as he stood up to make a presentation. He was surprised that England would take it this far—after all, America didn't even really remember what he did to offend him so. And after thinking about these particular thoughts for a while, he got slightly irritated. Who did England think he was, making it so hard for him to apologize?
And so…he's absent today…, America mused, scratching his head with resignation. It's not that easy to apologize to him, I guess…
America waltzed up to the board as per usual to the other nations, starting to babble about some strange plan that he was making up on the spot. After all, his mind was wandering elsewhere. Particularly in the direction of a certain blond-haired Brit.
Is he really that mad at me?
"And that's what I suggest we do as the strategy. Still the same as usual."
But he would still come no matter how pissed he was at me before…he would usually just make up some lame excuse, like, "I'm just here to surprise you!"
"Everyone can have a free discussion, but I won't take any objections!" America stabbed his marker rather violently at the dry-erase board. "…Oh well…he'll feel better if I just leave him alone for a few days…why do I have to worry about a difficult guys like him anyways…?"
America didn't realize that he had completely flown off into a land that the other countries didn't know of, but the other nations sitting at the long table certainly did. "He's saying what's on his mind out loud," Japan pointed out, sounding slightly surprised.
"Aha~!"
"At least be a little more implicit~aru…"
"I think he wants to be one with Russia!"
"No one wants to be one with Russia, Ivan."
"I do. Brother, let's get married…"
America, however, was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice the other nations poking fun at him. Ah…I'm starting to feel…somewhat pissed again…
"Heeey~!"
"His mind's still gone bye-bye!" Hungary laughed, whipping out a recording camera.
Unusually pissed.
He has a weird temper, plus he gets mad easily. He's also stubborn and is a shabby gentleman. So…I guess it's not unusual that we argue often…but it's never bothered me as much as it is right now. …Once I think about it, I have nothing to apologize about. It's nothing special…right…?
"It must be because of that weird dream."
All of the nations turned to look at America. He blinked, wondering why they were all staring at him. "…You really seem to be out of it today," Germany finally pointed out. "Are you feeling okay, America?"
Alfred looked around at all of the faces and hesitated. "Uh…yeah! I'm the hero! Why would I not be okay?" He needed to find a way out so he could call England. He needed to find out, for sure, what exactly was going on with the elder nation. "Um…I've got to go to a bathroom break, so I'll be right back."
"Okay. Hurry though."
America nodded to Japan and then had to restrain himself from running out the door. He could still hear a few whispers and mutters with his name sprinkled in regular intervals, but at the moment, he could care less about what other people said about him. America walked briskly over to the bathrooms and into a stall, pulling out his cell phone and holding the number three.
Beep…beep…beep…beep…
"Hello? England?"
But no one picked up.
America bit his bottom lip and pressed redial.
"What's wrong? The hero boy's being unhappy?" France smirked as he slid onto the bar stool that was next to America (who happened to be completely wasted). Alfred looked at him with bloodshot eyes, his fingers clamped around a margarita. France looked at the other empty glasses around the American with disapproval. "You seemed to be preoccupied at today's meeting."
America didn't answer, causing France to sigh. As America's silence drew longer and longer, Francis shook his head, making a move to get up. It seemed as if Alfred was a lost case. "France."
"Oh. Hmm?" Finally asking me for advice, huh…?
America was silent for a moment longer.
And then the dams broke.
"If there's this capricious person who loses his temper easily, refuses to make an appearance to give someone a chance to apologize, and refuses to even pick up calls, would a person like that irritate you? I feel the urge to find him and give him a good punch…" France took a sip of his wine, thinking, This American drunk is annoying. "…This is about my friend! Even though it doesn't concern me, it still irritates me just by thinking about it!" This 'friend' seems to be a pretty annoying person as well…
But… France frowned, tipping his drink back once more. All this complaining just makes me want to tease him. It seems like I'm not a nice person after all…
Francis watched Alfred's voice raising, his gestures starting to turn a little sloppy. Despite America spilling out his guts, France was slightly bored. So, as he would do, he occupied himself.
France gently grabbed America's chin and turned his surprised face in the elder's direction. "You. Stop enticing me with what you're doing. Of course the best place to make up is on the bed. Shall I teach you the make-up technique with your body…?"
Bang.
It seemed like losing his mind did nothing to America's strength. As per usual, he sent France flying with one punch, causing the other nation to collapse at the foot of one table, the few girls there jumping up with rather high pitched shrieks. Francis wailed from his new vantage point on the ground, "That hurts! You punched me~!"
"Of course I did," America said, tossing on his jacket with a smooth motion that was very surprising, considering how smashed he was. And without another word, he threw open the door and staggered outside.
France sighed, sitting back and pulling out the rubber band that had been holding back his hair, running his fingers through it to smooth it out. "The way he complains after he's drunk, he's just like…"
"..."
"...Who…was I just thinking about?"
America sat in front of his laptop, tipping back his tenth cup of coffee. The soft glow of the monitor illuminated the room, making the 'HERO' on his coffee cup just barely readable. The only other things that were visible were the few books with those colored tabs sticking out and the tabletop itself. America slammed the cup back on the desk, swallowing another aspirin in the process.
"England probably already visited France," he muttered sourly. His fingers skirted around the rim of the mug, catching a few stray drops of the cappuccino. "But France didn't say anything. This sucks. Now there's only a lot of paperwork waiting for me. And besides, what do those two have to hide anyway?"
The clock ticked slowly. America glanced up at it. It was already one in the morning. Well, whatever. I'll just go to sleep today. America sighed, his head landing on the desk with a loud thump.
"If you're going on about being a hero, start being responsible," England said, crossing his arms in front of his chest with a frown. "Stop being lazy. Get to work already."
America groaned. "Spare me please…" I always recall his lectures due to conditional reflexes…
"No!" England glared at his former colony. Apparently he had no respect for slackers. "It's either get to work or give up your right as a country!"
"Leave me alone…"
"However, if you feel the need to be as useful as Italy, then go ahead!"
America jumped awake.
"All right…you win…I'll do my stinking work," America muttered, positioning himself back in front of the laptop. "But you better compliment me when you see me tomorrow at the world meeting. 'You finished all your work! You're the best on earth! You're so cool!' You have to do it like that." America continued grumbling as he typed rhythmically on the keypad, perhaps with more force than strictly necessary.
I feel dizzy…
And after that, America successfully completely 0.3% of all his paperwork before he fell asleep on the desk.
Knock…knock…
"America! Are you inside? You won't make it to the meeting if you don't come out now! Come on! Everyone's waiting for you! Sheesh, did you fall asleep again?"
America, who had just woken up and checked the time, started. England was always the one that got him in the morning (that is, if he was late). Does that mean that he forgave him? Hardly able to contain his excitement, America tossed on his clothes at a breakneck speed, hastily running over his teeth with a toothbrush and almost mismatching his shoes.
He tossed open the door.
"I'm ready, Eng—"
...Canada.
"It's about time!" Canada frowned, running a hand through his hair and checking the time. "What took you so long? Was I right? Did you fall asleep in front of your computer again?"
America tried to hide his disappointed expression. "God, Canada, why did you come wake me up today?"
"What are you talking about? I always come and get you," Canada said, his brow crinkling. "Which…reminds me. Alfred…you are fine, right?" America turned around and raised an eyebrow. The timid brother stuttered for a while. "I-I mean, you don't really seem to be yourself these days. Is anything wrong?"
America shook his head and turned forward. "It's fine. But I'm giving England a piece of my mind when he shows up today…"
Canada froze. America, however, didn't notice and continued walking in a depressed sort of manner. The elder sibling found himself thinking hard. England…
"...Who?"
America looked at England's chair.
Empty.
...He's absent again today.
It's been a long time.
My relationship with England had always been in a weird state.
My new boss doesn't seem to value him as much as my previous bosses have. He must have felt somewhat distant.
That harsh criticizing that he always used to toss out at me is ebbing away, too. I feel a little happy about that…
But still…
...How long does he plan to hide?
...
Or is it…?
"Now, about the plan to stimulate the economy—"
"Hey, wait. Haven't I repeated this many times? First you suggest an unrealistic plan but you don't plan on implementing it in reality. Are you really still a brat?"
America rolled his eyes. "Geez, you again, England?"
But the eyes that he met weren't green.
"It's China," the Asian said, frowning. "C-H-I-N-A. You could at least remember my name if since you borrowed money from me."
America froze.
What had made him think that China was England again? He looked around the table, seeing the shocked and confused faces of the other nations around him. France was frowning, his eyes perplexed. America hesitated. What was wrong with him these days?
"I'm going to the bathroom. Let's take a break."
The voices of the other nations followed America out of the room.
"He hasn't been paying attention recently…"
"Oh, that's moe!"
"He probably hit puberty! Ahaha…"
"Hey wait? Isn't he still in his infancy?"
A round of laughter.
And while all of the other countries immediately made light of America's strange behavior, China was still thinking. After a while, he finally turned towards Russia. "Hey wait, what did he call me just then?"
Russia shrugged, still ever smiling. "I don't know…I've never heard of that nation before."
China turned forward again, his puckered brow never relenting.
"Me neither."
I felt as if I had done something wrong.
Probably because even though England didn't come…I still called out 'England' under my reflexive response.
Even though the actions he took again and again and again and again finally left this kind of negative influence on me…
But for me, to be influenced like this is really so…
"This is not like you, America."
Helpless.
"Talking to myself in a mirror…I'm like a lunatic now." America looked at his paler-than-normal face, frowning slightly. The running water continued filling up the basin, completely ignored by the person who turned it on. America looked at his reflection for a few more moments, then shook out the water droplets that caught in his hair, wiping off his face with a towel.
"Tsk. Idiot."
Alfred sighed again at the mirror and then dug around in his pocket, fishing out a pack of cigarettes. He told all of the other countries that he quitted years ago, but still, it was nice to keep a pack on you just in case of situations where you might go completely insane. Like now.
Lighter…lighter… America sighed as he thrust his right hand back into his pocket. Huh…?
Frowning, Alfred pulled out a piece of paper. "When did this…?"
To America,
Come to the café outside the conference building.
I'll be waiting.
America's heart skipped a beat. England. He checked his watch with slight hope. If England snuck him the note and intended him to go after the meeting…
But knowing England, he'd probably be early, so if America left now…maybe he would…
"…Way to do it in such a roundabout way."
Tick.
Tock.
"Ah…America's taking so long…" Canada looked nervously down at his watch. "Is he skipping…?" He looked down at the table of restless nations. None of them seemed to be even remotely happy. Russia had even gone as far as to bring out his pipe.
"His last words were, 'I'm going to the bathroom'," Ivan said cheerfully, slapping the water spigot against his palm.
France sighed and turned, smiling at Switzerland, who was sitting next to him. "How about we postpone this meeting until tomorrow? I have a date anyway." A few nations agreed, though Switzerland completely ignored France.
"I'm gonna shoot that bastard if he comes back after taking so long," the trigger-happy nation muttered under his breath, sneakily bringing out a shotgun. Estonia, who was sitting across from Switzerland, promptly dove under the table in case if the other country was looking for a target.
Germany's eye twitched, ignoring the scene before him. "These skippers…Italy didn't come today either."
Meanwhile, outside the building, America paused momentarily. "Oh shit, forgot about the meeting."
He considered turning back.
"Nah, they must have left after waiting that long. I know them all too well. And besides, it's not like anyone cares about that meeting anyway."
"…England, come out already."
Entering the coffee shop, America was relieved to see England sitting alone in a booth by the window, gazing out of it, expressionless. Of course, he denied feeling such things, convincing himself he was more annoyed by England's vanishing act. He wanted to demand an explanation for the other's absence, but his voice died in his throat when England turned from the window to look at the younger nation.
Briefly he met America's eyes, but then turned back to the window once America sat down across from him. He hadn't said a word, which was strange. If England really were mad at him, surely America would be greeted by a chide remark. Then again, this whole cold shoulder thing wasn't much better. In fact, it made America slightly concerned. He looked down briefly at the cup of coffee already in place and said nothing before following England's line of sight out the window.
He appeared to be looking out at nothing. Eyes trained over the tops of the buildings and out into the sky. Then America saw something. It was an image, or perhaps even a memory. Something foggy and unclear but there. Two people were standing together, an adult and child with their hands linked, backs to him. He recognized them immediately: the man in the black suit and the child in the white night gown. It was he and England. Back then. When they were happy.
America felt something wet slid down his cheek and his eyes widened. He just felt so...sad. He felt as if he had lost something precious. He turned away from the window to stare at England's profile. Perhaps he wasn't looking at what America had seen, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that America said what he needed to say.
"I," he began softly, shifting his gaze back to his untouched mug of coffee and lifting a hand to wipe his eyes. His hand bumped his glasses, pushing them up his forehead briefly. "I've always wanted to apologize to you."
"You're so capricious of yourself. America."
"That's why..."
"America. I don't approve of this."
"I feared all the critiques you said about me to the extreme."
"That's enough. Listen to what everyone else thinks. America."
"You don't need to be the hero..."
"...You used to be..."
"...America."
"I still want to express my gratitude to you afterwards—"
America remembered himself, small and practically helpless. He was sleeping peacefully, while above him England held out a small flower, a token of adoration, America recalled. Seeing it made the tears flow even more. He suddenly felt so hollow, even as he spilled his heart to the older country, England still didn't look at him.
"For finding me. And all the things you've done for me." America bowed his head and placed a hand over his eyes. It wasn't fair. None of this was fair. He was crying openly, his chest hurting and that hollow feeling expanding as everything he ever wanted to tell England came out. "-but I can't give you the same thing in return." America wiped his eyes again, his glasses finally falling from his face. They seemed to fall slowly, as America thought, suspended by something unreal and burdened. "Even so, am I still entitled to wish that you'll still always be with me?"
Capricious.
Full of myself.
Unwilling to listen to others.
I want to be the hero.
I want you to acknowledge me.
When can you forget my younger self?
I've always...
America's thoughts went blank at this. What had he always been? What was he without England? These past few days without him opened his eyes to something he wasn't sure he wanted to see. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes to stop the tears, no longer able to speak. England was a part of him whether he liked it or not, for it was the elder nation that made him who he was, and without him...
"Sir, you've been sitting here alone for a long time now," a voice intruded in on his thoughts. America, his head on a hand, his elbow sore from pressing into the table, blinked slowly. He looked up to see a waiter standing over him. "I'm sorry, but we're closing now."
I fell asleep and dreamt of that again.
In my dream, I was surprisingly honest. Then I met England and said some weird things.
The waiter stood there, emotionlessly, staring down at America. The nation found himself thinking bitterly that the waiter, with his straight blond hair and green eyes, looked a bit like England. But the eyebrows weren't there, and even America admitted that the waiter's eyes weren't nearly as brilliant. Was a person such as England really that rare? "Are you paying with your credit card, sir? Your signature please?"
And then…when I woke up, I felt that same emptiness.
How many people would reach out their hand to a complete stranger?
That shouldn't be me. I don't cry so easily and say weird things like that.
"…Yeah, credit." America breathed slowly, looking around the restaurant one more time before he took the bill and the pen and signed in a messy script, 'Alfred F. Jones'. The waiter took it and stepped away without another word, leaving the nation to frown at the back of his head.
But…I…
Alfred rose slowly, wobbling slightly. Sure enough, there was no one else in the café but him. He looked out the window at the seat that he had been sitting at. He looked at the view for a moment more before turning around and heading for the door.
I…I want to see England again. It must have been the dream.
"Please come again," the woman at the entrance said quietly, opening the door for America as he walked past.
Do I really have the same feeling as the 'me' in the dream?
...There was only one answer.
I had to see him. I won't accept any objections.
"Hide and seek is over. Come out, England."
I don't know what I'm going to say to him after I see him. Maybe I'll repeat what I said in that dream. What would his reaction be to that? The old coot would definitely be happy…wouldn't he?
But the urge to see him has really become such an enormous wish. It's so embarrassing, I really can't let him find out—I'd never hear the end of it.
Hey, hey, England…are you thinking about me right now, too?
Or am I really the only one that's carrying out this foolish, ridiculous, childish, paranoid, hidden, and helpless one-sided longing for him?
...I can't risk that.
If he doesn't show up at the next meeting, I'm going to suggest dismissing him from the UN.
...It's decided then.
America's eyes narrowed, his lips pulled down into a rare frown. The antics of the other nations around him didn't even draw his attention for one bit. For once, Alfred was calm, his hands intertwined on the table before him. It was still early, so not too many nations were in the room yet. But that wouldn't matter, now would it?
Because he didn't come today either.
And even though not all of the nations had arrived yet, America had already seen that England wouldn't be there. England always showed up early, most of the time being the first nation in the room. And perhaps…America's gut, this entire time, had been telling him that England wouldn't be here.
But it wouldn't matter at this point.
Why won't you come?
Why was he surprised?
Is it doubt?
He was so confused.
Can longing and irritation exist at the same time?
England had always been there.
Am I asking too much?
What's happening?
I only want to see you.
Is England ignoring him on purpose?
Uncertainty.
Was this his fault?
Everything.
What could he have done to cause this?
Ah.
There was no way this was his fault.
My emotions are all mixed together.
I'm just like an idiot.
And…
I'm angry.
England's empty chair on America's left seemed to glimmer or such, taunting the blond nation. America found himself simply staring at it, the black leather of it, wondering why it would still exist. Nothing mattered anymore, didn't it? England wasn't here.
"Ve, we still have another meeting," Feliciano sighed to his brother, both of them walking toward where America was sitting.
Very angry.
"What're you talking about? You didn't even come yesterday," Romano scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Don't tell me, you'd discovered a new type of pasta and skipped just so you could make it?"
Italy laughed. "No, I just woke up too late. I really hope Germany isn't that mad at me." He pulled out the chair on America's left. Alfred blinked. What?
"Who cares about that potato bastard anyway?" Romano frowned. "He's good for nothing and he can't even do anything."
"But Germany might be angry I troubled him again from being absent yesterday," Italy said with his perpetual smile.
And then he sat down in England's chair.
"Don't sit there!"
The meeting room fell silent. Romano and Italy turned, alarmed, towards America. "What the hell?" Romano hissed, his eyes narrowing. No one talked to his brother like that. "Are you trying to pick a fight?"
"A-America? Is…Is something wrong?" Italy's brow furrowed with worry. "Why're you so mad all of a sudden?"
America's blood ran cold. Suddenly he had no control over himself. He stood there, quivering, his palms pressed into the table and leaning slightly over the table, not unlike his posture when he was introducing a new and absurd idea. "Did you not hear me?" America spat with venom. "That's not your spot. Only England can sit there."
"America!" Alfred's head snapped around, fixing his blue eyes on Germany. The other nation didn't even flinch. "That is Italy's spot. It's been Italy's spot. And who's this 'England' you've been talking about since yesterday?
"There's no such person here."
...What?
England's…
America turned in an almost robotic-like movement. They didn't know who England was? But…But England's one of the elder nations! Everyone knew who he was! America looked at France, trying to find some answer from England's old arch-enemy.
Francis looked at Alfred for a while, confusion in his gaze. "I don't know who you're talking about either," he finally admitted, shaking his head slowly. "I've never heard of 'England' before."
America looked up.
There had always been a large, painted map of the world on the ceiling, spanning the entire length and depicting the earth in a warm green and a pale blue. Black lines spider-webbed between the smallest nations to the largest borders, mapping every political split between the land. It had been up there for ages, ever since the meetings had first been held. America's practiced eyes searched out Europe. He found Ireland, a small island right above France.
And to the right of that…
Nothing.
...
England…
...England…Disappeared.
"Thank you all for taking in my citizens," Arthur said, looking down solemnly at a sheet of paper with half-lidded eyes. "Then according to the regulation agreement, I hereby declare that the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland is dissolved of now and will no longer exist as a country…"
America began to tremble. "No…England…"
"Wait! I won't allow it!" America yelled, making England look up with alarm. The other nations at the table turned towards America. Canada looked at him with saddened eyes and slowly shook his head for his twin brother to stop. America didn't listen. "What do you mean there's no other solution? There are some other ways! Like Japan's artificial land! If you need funding, I can aid—"
"No…no, please no…"
"America…" France was looking down at the table, not meeting anyone's gaze. His voice was sounded steady, but was slightly pained. "This is England's decision. If he wishes to take this path, then we're powerless to stop him." Italy began to cry.
"It's…it's…"
"Please~aru," China said simply. Alfred hated his gaze. It looked too pitying. Why was everyone siding against him? Did they all want England to die?
"Shut up! Anyone that disagrees with me should either be quiet or disappear before me!"
"It's…it was me…"
The entire table hushed.
And the one nation to Alfred's left, the one nation that raised him, widened his eyes, stunned with the rest. England stared at what was his former colony and saw tears hidden behind the blue irises. He was still a child. After all this time, America was still a little kid that needed his elder sibling. England looked saddened for a moment. Alfred had still needed him, and yet he would still be afraid to chase after him. The elder nation smiled a bittersweet smile and slid a hand over Alfred's.
"It can't be helped. You're so capricious even at a time like this." England turned his eyes down to the table, the smile never leaving his face. "Thank you, America. But I have already decided.
"Goodbye."
WASN'T THAT WHAT I HAD BEEN TRYING TO FORGET ON PURPOSE?
America began screaming, grabbing his hair with both hands and sliding out of his chair, kneeling on the ground. Italy's eyes widened and he made a move to stop him, but Romano looked down, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder.
"England…"
"Not now, fratello…" Romano said quietly.
"Why…you…"
France looked hard at America. Strangely enough, he felt some memory coming up again. Hearing this one queer name being screamed again and again in agony was triggering something, but it scattered throughout his mind before he could collect it all.
"There were still so many things that I hadn't…"
China looked down, his brow puckered with worry and pity. Russia stared down as well, the smallest frown in his face.
"Please…you…"
Hungary intertwined her fingers with Austria's, watching America quietly. Prussia looked over at Spain to see him trembling.
"Why…why did…"
Canada stared at his brother with agony, wanting to help and not knowing how.
"I'm begging you…"
Iceland slowly hugged Norway's arm in slight fright, while the older Nordic turned to look up at Denmark with confusion. Sweden wrapped his arms protectively around Finland.
"Arthur…Arthur…"
Japan closed his eyes, turning his face to the heavens. Korea's bottom lip trembled and he wrapped his arms around himself.
"Please…don't leave me…"
Everyone had kept the same silence on that day.
It's as if they were soundlessly tolerating America's grief-stricken and maniac cries. The name 'England' was called out again and again in the conference room. The enormous despair and emptiness that accompanied it seemed dampen the air.
As if they could affect the others.
...But even so…
They still believed America's abnormal behavior was due to the excess fatigue from recent matters. After what happened on that day, they all suggested that he should get some rest. After some consideration, he agreed to it.
And so he left his country temporarily and took a vacation in another place.
The first one to welcome him was France.
"Woooooow! So this is the northern coastline of France! The wind is blowing so hard!" America cried joyfully, stretching his arms in the air and feeling the smell of the sea waft around him. France, standing behind him, smirked.
"Hey. Don't go off and act like such a kid. You know, I took some time off just so I could accompany you."
"Oh, you don't have to look after me," America said brightly, looking back at France with a smile. To be truthful, the European nation was relieved. After America's breakdown in the meeting room, the younger nation had been slowly deteriorating until he just suddenly asked France out of the blue to take him to his northern coastline. Of course the elder nation couldn't say no, so the two of them had taken a long and eventful journey up, France more than pleased to see America finally being happy again and no longer wailing in his sleep about 'England'. "I'm just gonna take a look around. You should go and chase after that waitress that I saw you eyeing."
France chuckled. "Is that so. Observant little bastard you are. I'll go get some drinks then. You drink coke, right?"
"Sure, sure, just go already!"
"Fine, I'll be back soon," France said, shaking his head as he smiled, turning around to head back to the nearest town.
America looked at France's retreated back and watched it disappear behind the few rocks. It was then that America's smile changed from a happy one to a more gentler, bittersweet smile.
...Good morning, England.
America took off his shoes and socks and placed them by the shoreline. He wouldn't need them anymore.
The Straight of Dover that once existed is shining with beauty this morning. It's like a pretty rainbow reflecting off all the colors of the sunlight. Did you know there were this many colors?
He took a step into the water, smiling at the cooling feeling pooling around his feet.
It's on this day that I've decided to find you.
And then suddenly the water splashing playfully against his ankles became long blades of grass swaying in the wind and the few clouds in the sky turned into soaring birds flying over a prairie. The cool salt air wafting around him became musty and smelled like wheat.
And in front of him, with a smile on his face and his hand extended, was England.
Just like how you found me.
Alfred smiled and began to walk towards the horizon in front of him.
France frowned down at America's shoes and socks, wet by the rising tide that had been sweeping in. He looked forward to where the footprints on the sand extended, but he couldn't see a single thing in front of him. Francis looked around, the coke can in his hand starting to warm up in the midday sun.
"Huh…I wonder where he went…"
A.D. 2375
As global warming worsened due to the greenhouse effect, only one-third of the iceberg at the North Pole remained due to the rise of sea level as well as the global mechanism of crustal movements.
Among the nations, England suffered the most impact, and its nation sank below sea level.
The United Nations held an urgent meeting.
France, Canada, Russia, China, Italy, and other nations had expressed that they would voluntarily accept English immigrants. At the same time, they also demanded England to declare the disintegration of its nation. Its citizens would automatically lose their English citizenship and be accepted as citizens of the country they immigrated to.
During the process of signing the agreement, American government interfered in the British government's decision in many ways. They did not approve of the nation's disintegration proposal, and thus refused to accept any English immigrants.
A.D. 2376
England declared the disintegration of its nation.
And…
Scientists still cannot explain the abnormal crustal movement in the North American region in the 70's. During this continent's abnormal movement, the landmass between Canada and Mexico sank deeply into the ocean. People are still searching for the hypothesis of any possible explanation.
...All for the love of the two countries…
Fin.
And yes, THIS took me ages to write. XD It's sad, really~
Well, review if you feel like it? ^^