She Lives In Us
By Coco Gash Jirachi
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia!
Summary: America goes into his old storage room again, and this time comes across an item from his life before England took him in. Is he strong enough to cope with the emotions that come with his memories of the past? Perhaps an impromptu visit from Canada will help him to cope. Hinted EnglandxAmerica at the end.
Hey guys! This is my first upload in... forever, 'cos my computer went kaput on me again. DX I wrote this waaaaay back in November, and have been internally struggling on whether or not to post it up, but, now I am, because, well... I've been very inactive on here, and even just one upload would make me feel a little bit better. That, and I feel proud of this story. I just do; because of the heart and effort I put into it.
So, anyways, I hope this doesn't suck too bad. Enjoy! :3
"Maaan, why the hell can't I remember where I put it?..."
Said sunny blonde-haired man kept grumbling and whining to himself as he unlocked the storage room with his keys and opened the door. The overwhelming scent of dust and what could only be classified as the word "old" swept over his sense of smell. Like the sort of smell that inhabited an antique store from all of the items being ancient.
"Ah well," America sighed, pocketing his keys in his bomber jacket and keeping his hands in his pockets. He walked inside, thankful that he had finally organized this room all of those years ago, even though the memories of the Revolutionary War were painful to remember. Especially since nowadays he and England were getting along, and very well at that.
In fact the entire reason why he was in this room now was because he had just hung up with the Englishman after talking about a children's book he had when he was just a little colony. It was a book he'd read and reread time and time again for what seemed like forever, and yet he couldn't remember the title. England did help narrow it down for him though, and soon he was on the search for the books he kept when he moved out of England's house and became his own nation. With all of what should be bad blood between the two brothers, there was a lot he still hung onto because even though the past was unpleasant in some areas, there were still a lot of happy memories he cherished with his old brother.
The blonde nation almost couldn't believe how nostalgic this room always made him feel. He stopped in his tracks, gave a soft chuckle, and pulled himself together. "Come on, dude, don't get swept away now."
He ventured further into the room, the only source of light coming from the hallway, but frankly it was all he needed. He didn't come into the room often and for good reason so why bother installing light fixtures?
His eyes laid on a box toward the back in the corner of the room, upon which seeing it he blinked. "That's weird, I don't remember seeing that when I cleaned this place up."
In no time he approached the wooden crate, popping the nailed-on lid off with a crowbar and a little bit of elbow grease. His nose was met with another powerful scent of old dust, but a quick cough and wave of his hand in front of his face was enough to subdue it. Immediately upon laying his eyes on the contents of the box, he smiled and said, "Sweet, my kid stuff!" in his very-America-like voice.
He began taking things out, starting with the clothing on top. He laughed and thought out loud, "I can't believe I used to wear something so lame." as he picked up an old outfit consisting of a collared shirt, cravat, button-up cardigan, suspenders and knee-length knickers. How very British. "I wonder if the socks that went with these are in here." he said thoughtfully, setting the outfit down at his side without folding it back up as he reached inside for the next item. A piece of folded up paper that turned out to be a drawing of the British flag; something he had drawn for England and given to him as a present for a holiday or an anniversary of something. How it had wound up in his things when he became his own nation, he was not sure.
Just his luck, beneath the old drawing was a stack of children's books he cheered with a "Whoop!" when he found them. He grasped the stack all together and pulled them out of the box.
Smack.
America blinked, setting down the books as he leaned over the box. He blinked at what he found in the bottom. The old, light blue robe-like-garment he was wearing when he first met England. Somehow, during all of this time, it remained as bright and colorful as the day he last wore it. It still looked brand new.
What he couldn't figure out is what was wrapped in the old, white blanket sitting atop of the garment.
America reached inside, pulling out the garment by its shoulders and holding it up, having heard the bundle fall in the box again. He smiled at the old piece of clothing he hadn't worn for hundreds of years, noting how even though it was old as sin and had been in a box of old things for who-knew-how-long, it still smelled of sunshine and summer days from back when he'd wear it and England would hold him against his chest in the garden, rocking and lulling him to sleep by singing him a lullaby. His brother had been the best parent to him, looking back on it all, and he was thankful he still had him in his life, even after everything they went through. They say that old wounds never heal, but things were different between him and the nation who'd raised him.
Allowing himself a moment's weakness, he held the old piece of clothing against his nose and inhaled the scent of sunshine forever embedded into its thread. It reminded him that not everything from the past was painful so long as you could keep moving forward.
But what was really bothering him was that he couldn't remember what on Earth was bundled up in that old blanket. He was too much of a hero to admit he was a little apprehensive about whatever he may find inside.
For all he knew, it could be England's old British flag-patterned dildo, but that seemed a bit unlikely, knowing the limey. Although sometimes he wondered.
With a soft sigh and the thought of, Better now than never, he set down his old outfit atop of his picture books before he reached into the box, picking up the final item inside. He held it in his right hand and began unwrapping the blanket with his left.
As soon as it came into his sight, he blinked with a quiet gasp.
"Wah'boos."
As soon as the word came out of his mouth, his eyes widened. How many centuries had it been since he's uttered it?
The item in his hands looked just as new as his old childhood garment was. The toy looked so little in his hands; the illusion of how big it was must have deceived the nation when he was younger. It was the stuffed rabbit he held and played with when England stopped by to see him. Its black ears stood straight up after being unwrapped, and its white body was still intact as if not a day had gone by since it was made.
How long had he had it, anyway?...
All of a sudden, America could feel his body trembling.
It was a long, long time ago, but he remembered little things about his life before being raised by England. He had no idea how it was possible, but before he was found and homed, his memories had been wiped mostly clean. He had no memory of his life thus far, and as far as he'd known, he was completely new to the world and had began searching it with curiousity, determination, and without a hint of fear. He hadn't a name or anything for the rabbit without his early memories, but one day almost completely out of the blue, he was hit with the memories like a dump truck driving through a nitroglycerin plant.
He remembered his life in the New World before it was discovered. Before he and Canada were separated. When they had a caretaker. A woman they called "Ina".
Mother.
Ina was a beautiful, strong woman with dark skin, long hair as black as a starless night sky, and eyes that held within them the same shades of brown as the soil in the Earth. She was their world and she taught them everything she could.
He remembered their youngest days would be filled with learning and playing and hunting for food and necessities. Back when he and Canada wore clothes made of the hides that Ina had skinned off of dead animals, when they wore headbands with feathers on them that kept their, back then, wild and unruly hair out of their faces and their eyes. When he hadn't possessed the name of a nation; when he hadn't even known he was a nation, or what a nation was. He was content with Ina and with Canada, who Ina called "Nah-hak", while she called America "Me'gee see".
He remembered cold nights spent by the fire with Ina and Nah-hak, chanting and dancing and bopping their hands on drums in a steady rhythm. He remembered the three of them sleeping together in a teepee and waking up in the morning to drink from the stream and hunt for their next meal. He remembered aiming and firing a bow and arrow, and running around without a shirt on to let his skin darken like Ina's, as did Nah-hak. He remembered watching Ina braid her hair; admiring how skillful her fingers were. How he and Nah-hak would be squirming and whining as she cut their hair with her skinning knife.
No matter how habitual their days were, they were never boring, and both of the boys were happy to spend them with Ina; with their mother.
But then one day, they awoke alone and when they wandered out of the teepee, Me'gee see leading the way and Nah-hak following, they saw Ina sitting and watching the sunrise on the hill with a look on her face that they hadn't seen before. Worriedly, they rushed over and threw their arms around her and Ina, never missing a beat, wrapped her arms around her boys and didn't ask why they were in distress or why they were crying.
It was that morning where Ina began teaching them new things. A whole bunch of new words that turned out to be in another language (until then they didn't know other words could mean the same thing as other words) that she knew to be called "English", and began taking them hunting less and less, and told them to wear their shirts more often, especially long-sleeves since it was getting colder. The more things began to change between the three, the more the two boys began to notice that their Ina was changing as well. She looked paler, a bit weaker, as if sickly. Maybe she had a cold? They knew how awful they always felt when they had a cold. She would put them to bed at night without settling down with them, and until they fell asleep, she would sit outside of the teepee and try to warm up in vain by the fire, coughing and coughing and weakening by the day.
Some time later, they awoke one morning to again, see another change in Ina. She simply smiled at them even in her weakened state, set out food for them to eat, and after they'd had their meal she presented them both with a new outfit. It wasn't made out of fur, or leather, or hide. It was made of something strange; something they hadn't ever seen before. They were both longer than any other shirts they'd worn before and their coloration was a sky blue like the sort of blue that the sky was on a day that was a bit pale, and the pants that went with them were completely hidden by the sky-colored fabric.
None the less, they accepted their new clothes and allowed her to dress them properly. Upon tying the red ties around the slightly ruffled necks of their new outfits, Ina smiled and placed a hand upon each of their heads.
"Me'gee see, you are America." Me'gee see cocked his head to the side. "Nah-hak, you are Canada." Nah-hak cocked his head to the side as well; mirror-imaging his slightly elder brother. Ina placed her arm upon each of their shoulders. "My children, heed my words. What I am about to tell you is very important indeed. I have loved you and raised you and taught you for many years, but now the time has come for me to let you out into the world on your own. My time has come to an end so that your beginnings may now come along."
Me'gee see - America - blinked and asked in his still-practicing English, "Where you go, Ina?"
"I will always be close to you, my little ones." Ina said in her normal, strong voice. "But the time has come to let you go. I must set you free."
They didn't know where their next gifts came from. Ina handed America Wah'boos - rabbit, it meant rabbit - and a white bear to Nah-hak - Canada. Inwardly, the both of them were baffled at the sight of a white bear, as they hadn't ever seen one that wasn't brown. There was one they interacted with on a regular basis who would be classified as a pet nowadays.
"America," Ina wrapped her arms around his little shoulders, placing her forehead on his. America blinked his sky-blue eyes at her, holding Wah'boos in his arms. "You will be first, my brave warrior."
Ina slipped her eyes closed, and a soft, gentle song came out of her throat.
O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain.
For purple mountain majesties,
Above the fruited plain!
America, America!
God shed his grace on thee.
And crown thy good with brotherhood,
From sea to shining sea!
When Ina pulled away from him, there were tears in his eyes and they were glazed over and America was shaking. "Ina..." he uttered. "What's happening to me?"
Ina only smiled sadly, and soon wrapped her arms around Canada, who clutched his white bear tightly and shook a little as Ina slipped her eyes closed and placed her forehead upon his.
Another song soon made its way out of her vocal chords.
O Canada,
Our home and native land!
True patriot love in all thy sons command.
With glowing hearts we see thee rise,
The True North strong and free!
From far and wide,
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
God keep our land glorious and free!
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
Ina too pulled away from Canada, and he was crying and shaking far more than his brother and his sky blue eyes were glazed over like America's. "I-I-I-I-Ina, what did... what did... what did you do?..."
Ina slipped her eyes closed again, letting a tear roll down each of her cheeks. She heard her boys walk closer to her and she hugged them both. "America, my child, I have raised you to be strong and to be a leader, to never give up and to always protect those you love and stand up for what you believe in. These lessons will bode you well in the future, and you will turn out to be a very strong and independent nation." She smiled and then continued. "Canada, my little one, I have taught you to be gentle and kind and considerate of others. You must never doubt yourself. Be polite, be soft-hearted, be brave and be good."
"Ina?..." they both uttered shakily.
When they awake, they won't remember me... rung through her head.
Just for them and herself, she began to sing them their favorite lullaby one last time.
Ho, ho, Watanay,
Ho, ho, Watanay,
Ho, ho, Watanay,
Ki-yo-ki-na,
Ki-yo-ki-na.
Her body began to glow as they began to fall asleep.
Oh, oh, little ones,
Oh, oh, little ones,
Oh, oh, little ones,
Now go to sleep,
Now go to sleep.
And they were asleep before she disappeared.
"America?... America?..."
Blue eyes snapped open and the blonde-haired nation sat up and looked around; he blinked when he saw he was in the storage room, confused even more when his eyes and face felt wet, and again when he saw the rabbit in his arm.
"Are you alright?" a soft, familiar voice asked.
America blinked again as he saw Canada sitting at his side. Damn. He had a tendency to see through him sometimes, given how meek and transparent the other nation was.
"Oh, Canada, Bro," America tried to laugh it off, bringing up his free hand to his face to wipe at his cheeks. "I didn't hear ya come in..."
"It's alright, I only knocked for about fifteen minutes before I crawled inside through an open window and I've only been trying to wake you up for about ten minutes." Canada replied. "It's no big deal."
"Ah, sorry Bro, I was cleaning and I must've fallen asleep..." America trailed off as he remembered he had invited the younger nation over for dinner. Which he had promised to cook. And hadn't.
"Were you dreaming about Ina?"
America blinked, staring through his glasses at the nation he called his brother. "What?"
"You know..." Canada began. "Of Mother."
America blinked, a bit of worry and panic in his gaze. "Mother?..."
Canada laid his soft gaze on America's. "I remember her too, you know. I dream about her some nights, and then I wake up crying like you did. She was so kind and so gentle... and so motherly... and she was all ours."
America wouldn't admit that he was shaking just a bit now. Heroes don't shake, even when they're sad. And heroes don't get sad. So he wasn't crying because he was a hero.
"I remember everything she taught us, too." Canada said, not moving his eyes from his elder brother. "How she taught you to be fearless and courageous, and how she taught me to be gentle and kind." He tightened the grip around his own hand. "I think she's why our skin doesn't get pale when it's winter and it gets colder and the sun is out less. Because we used to tan so much so we could look just like her."
America looked down into his lap; to the rabbit named Wah'boos that had been one final gift from Ina to him. It was proof enough that she was real and that she wasn't just a fantasy or a hallucination that either he or Canada had experienced.
"I still have my bear, too," Canada said quietly. "I keep it on my nightstand. Sometimes when I wake up in the morning or the middle of the night, it's right in my arms." He looked America in the eye. "Do you ever wonder why she gave us up, America?"
America shut his eyes and with a small smile and a light chuckle, he said, "We've never talked about her before... have we, Canada?"
"It's just us right now, Big Brother," Canada said quietly. "You can just call me Matthew." he finished with a smile.
"Alright then," America responded, reciprocating with, "Then you can call me Alfred right now, Bro."
"Mm," Canada - Matthew - nodded. "Okay." He then asked, "And it's okay for you to answer honestly, but, did you forget that I was coming over tonight?"
"A little bit, yeah," Alfred chuckled, rubbing the back of his head, blinking as he realized he was still holding Wah'boos. He then set it down on the books he'd taken out of the box and then stood up, saying, "Well, if I can figure out what goes into pancakes, then hopefully I can feed you within the hour."
"Oh, don't worry about it," Matthew replied as he stood up, following America out of the storage room. "I can make my own food."
"Dude, are you sure?" Alfred asked, finally beginning to feel a little more like his normal self.
"Yes, it's fine. Plus, the last time you tried to cook for me, you burned off our eyebrows."
"Seriously, they need to start writing cooking instructions in normal words! I don't know how to beat up an egg!"
Alfred closed the door to the storage room behind them, and continued down the hallway without locking it.
"So, uh," Alfred set down the plate full of hamburgers on the table as Matthew went about putting together breakfast for dinner skillfully, as it was his specialty. "How much do you remember about her, Mattie?"
Matthew paused thoughtfully, touching his spatula to his chin. "It's hard to say how much exactly, really," he said. "I have no idea how long we were with her. If we even remember everything from the day she had us..."
Alfred, leaning his head on his hands, said, "I've always wondered if a nation is woman-born... no one is really around who knows the answer anymore."
"She always looked upon you in favor, you know." Matthew said, hanging his head.
Alfred blinked and looked to his twin. "She loved us both equally, Mattie. Never doubt that."
Matthew smiled softly. "You were her little prodigy. You were so good at hunting, and dancing, and running... and everything. You were always so quick to learn."
"I'm not the one who keeps hunting to this very day, though," Alfred laughed, picking up a burger from the plate. "I don't think I have since back then."
"Hm," Matthew rolled his head back, staring up toward the ceiling through his glasses. "Alfie... you didn't answer me when I asked before, so..." He turned his head to his brother, whom had just taken a bite out of a hamburger and turned his own attention to the meeker nation. "Do you ever wonder why she gave us up?"
For once in his life, Alfred didn't finish his hamburger in less than two bites. He set down his favorite food without yet finishing it, and he was quiet before he said, "She was sick, Matt. Don't you remember?"
Matthew slowly blinked once, but then nodded once.
Alfred slipped his eyes closed. "I think she... died."
Matthew let out a quiet gasp before he turned around fully. "... I was always afraid that... that was the reason why she let us go..." He hung his head. "... But you know, there's something I believe..."
Alfred picked his head up and opened his eyes, laying his eyes on his close-eyed, thinking, gentle brother.
"I think that by letting herself slip away, she was saving our lives from who-knows-what." Canada went on. "Do you remember what she looked like, just before our memories were erased?"
"Uh-uh," Alfred said, shaking his head.
Matthew picked up his head and with a little smile, he said, "She looked like she was glowing."
Alfred blinked. "Glowing?..." He looked down at his hands. "I... I always thought that was from the sun..."
"That's not all," Matthew continued. "I think that by sacrificing herself for us, she became one with us and the countries we are today. She's why we have what we have; she became one with the Earth in which we were meant to have. She became a part of America the Beautiful, and Canada the True North of the strong and free. From sea to shining sea, and to the land I stand on guard for, glorious, far and wide." He smiled. "Ina lives on in us. We are her legacy, her land... we are what we are because of her."
Alfred smiled himself, his eyes closed, and totally wasn't crying again because heroes don't cry and he was a hero so he wasn't crying. Nope. Not at all. His eyes were simply leaking; that was his story and he was sticking to it. He then picked his head up and landed his gaze on Canada. "That's a beautiful thought, Bro." He then giggled. "Your pancakes are burning."
Matthew then panicked, turned around and flipped his dinner before it would become unsaveable.
Nostalgia sure could be distracting.
In the end, the two brothers were able to sit down and have a normal dinner and a normal conversation with one another. They smiled, they laughed so hard they teared up, and Canada performed the Heimlich maneuver on Alfred three times when he laughed so hard he began to choke. They even managed to have a conversation about Canadian bacon when Matthew mentioned that Alfred also had it in his fridge, which he made as a side for his pancakes.
"Dude, awesome! I didn't know I had bacon in there! Gimme a slice, Bro?" Alfred asked.
"Actually, it's Canadian bacon, Alfie." Matthew replied.
"Doesn't matter to me if the pig came from Canada; bacon is bacon!"
Matthew then sighed, poked a piece of meat into his fork and held it up. "This is Canadian bacon."
Alfred blinked at the sight of a little, circular piece of ham on his brother's fork. "Dude, that's ham, it's not bacon."
"Alfred, in my culture this is bacon, hence why it's called Canadian bacon."
Alfred then placed a hand on his chin and munched on his hamburger with the other as he asked, "Well fen, do you cfall ywrm b'con hmm?"
"Yes." Matthew replied.
"Why don't you just call it ham and bacon instead of Canadian bacon and Canadian ham?" Alfred asked, sounding genuinely perplexed.
With a sweat drop, Matthew said, "I was joking, we just call bacon bacon."
"Ah. Whatevs!" Alfred said before he jammed an entire hamburger into his mouth.
Matthew simply sighed, but chuckled as he continued his dinner with his brother.
It was late into the night that he stayed, but the time flew by quicker than either of them knew it. Alfred was soon seeing Matthew off at the door, waving and bidding goodbye as he left to go back home for the night.
Shortly after the younger nation's departure, America found himself heading to bed as he was rather tired. He blinked when he had noticed he unconsciously made his way back to the storage room. He stared at the door for a moment, and then placed his hands in the pockets of his jacket, slightly surprised at the feel of the keys in his pocket.
That's right; he hadn't remembered to lock the door when he and Canada left it. Without knowing why, he found himself opening the door, and as the light from the hallway filled the dark room, he saw the rabbit - Wah'boos - sitting on the stack of old children's books he'd taken out of the box. He blinked when he laid his eyes on the old toy; it looked like it was sitting there, staring toward the door just waiting for him to return.
America wasn't sure why he walked into the room, picked up the plush rabbit, forgetting about the books for then, before he turned and exited again, this time cradling the rabbit against his chest.
He was sure to lock the room this time before he finally headed off to his bedroom to strip, shower and change before he fell into bed. Wah'boos sat on his night table, like how Canada said he kept his plush bear from Ina on his, and finding himself quite exhausted, America fell asleep, clad in nothing but American-flag printed boxers with a sheet strewn across his body.
When the morning came, he was awoken by the ringing phone by his bed. Rolling over and moaning, he picked it up off of the receiver and with a loud yawn he mumbled, "Yeah, I wanna ride the pony..."
"... What on Earth are you talking about?"
America blinked, brought out of his sleepy stupor as he sat up and said, "Oh, England Bro! 'Sup?"
"I was just checking in on you; France told me he saw Canada leaving your house pretty late last night. Were you up getting so plastered out of your mind that you needed a babysitter?"
"Naw, we were just up late talking." America replied before he yawned again, stretching his free arm. He then felt something fall into his lap and he blinked. "Eh?"
"Hm? Something wrong?"
America really couldn't believe that he was staring down at Wah'boos in his lap. Subconsciously, he blamed Canada for telling him he woke up with his own plush toy in his arms sometimes. The two of them were really alike in some ways; that much he couldn't deny.
"Oh, it's nothing. I just forgot to get dressed last night." America said casually.
"Ack, t-that was a little too much information!" America laughed at England's stutter. "A-anyways, we've gotten completely off topic."
"From what?" America asked as he held Wah'boos in his free arm again.
England sighed from the other line. "Anyways, I was just calling to check up on you. We have a World Meeting in a week, so it would have really sucked if you died from alcohol poisoning or by choking on your own vomit in your sleep."
"Psh, yeah, I'm fine dude." America replied in his normal tone. "But thanks anyway!"
"Ah, not a problem."
America then looked down at the rabbit in his arms. He smiled softly at it before he said, "Hey, Iggy?"
"Yes?"
America picked his head up, and as he looked out of the window to the morning sky, his eyes were met with the pale blue color of his old childhood outfit from Ina. "Do you ever wonder where a new nation comes from?"
There was a long, thoughtful pause. "Hm..." England was heard. "Well, sometimes, yes. But maybe we're better off not knowing, because sometimes the truth can't be handled that well." From his study where he stirred his tea in thought, England blinked and asked, "Where did that come from, anyway?"
America slipped his eyes closed. "Ah, nothing." He let out a contented breath before he let himself look at the sky again. "Just something that Matthew and I were talking about last night."
"Since when do you talk about a subject so deep?"
"Dude, have you seen anything that's come out of Hollywood?"
England simply laughed lightly, and sighed quietly before he said, "Well, wherever we come from, I'm at least glad to know you came from who-knows-where. You're a good friend and an excellent ally."
America smiled again. "Thanks, British dude."
"Haha, no problem, old pal."
A short, comfortable silence passed between the two before England asked, "Say, would you like to come over for lunch?"
"So long as you don't serve shepherd's pie."
"Alright, alright, I'll make sure there's hamburgers."
Time flew by before America was just about ready to leave to get to England's in time for lunch. As he finished taming his hair and pulled on his bomber jacket, he turned his head to his bed. Messy as always, but he laid his eyes on the rabbit sitting on his night stand once more. He simply smiled, shook his head, and said, "Since when were heroes so sentimental?..."
However, as he shut the front door behind himself and began his trip to England's house, he remembered what Canada told him just before he left the night before.
"By the way," Canada had said quietly with a little smile on his face. "The bear that Ina gave me, I named Nah-hak."
He then waved, said goodbye and turned to leave.
America stared after Canada as he left the porch. Leaning against the door frame, he uttered, "Nah-hak..." and for a moment, saw the other nation as a little boy, shirtless, with painted symbols on his darkened, tanned skin as they danced around the fire with their old caretaker.
No matter how hidden it is, you can never truly forget the past.
OWARI
... Wow, my first Hetalia fic. And I finished it in two nights? That's practically unheard of when it comes to me. ^^'''
Well, either way, for those of you who read, thank you very, very much. :) I know for my first Hetalia fanfic, it's probably not that great, and I am very, very aware of how cheesy it is, but, cheesy is one of my (albeit accidental) specialties.
As for its inspiration, it was from a CMV I found on YouTube between Chibii!America and Native America. It was how I found out about the fan theory regarding Native America, and it intrigued me. The song it was set to was When She Loved Me By Sarah McLachlan.
So I went with a few of my own little details and wrote this when the inspiration to write it struck me. I'm sorry I know it jumps around in a few places, but that's how my inspiration sometimes works. So this story is a combination of the fan theory and the ideas I came up with on my own.
I tried not to describe Native America too much, since America and Canada were meant to be very young when she took care of them, so I generalized her description since a lot of people have made her look very similar between fanart. Since this was merely inspired by the fan theory and the fanart I've seen of her, it isn't exact to the theory. Then again, theories are theories and can be open to interpretation, hence why I tried to make this different while also staying a little true to the theory.
Okay I've been rambling too much now, so anyways, I hope you all liked this, and thanks for reading! :3
Also, "Ina" isn't an official name for Native America, it's simply what I had America and Canada call her because it means "mother". I didn't name her because it didn't seem like something that they would know or even remember.
And the names she called America and Canada have meanings that I just wanted to be a little creative with. America's Native American name was "Me'gee see", which means "eagle" after the American bald eagle, and Canada's Native American name was "Nah-hak", which means "bear", which I chose to reflect the polar bear.
And obviously, "Wah'boos" means "rabbit", which was mentioned in the story.
So anyways, thank you again for reading, reviews would make me very happy, as it would encourage me to write more in the future in the Hetalia section. :3
P.S.: The songs I listened to that inspired me as I wrote this were "When She Loved Me", "He Lives In You", "Colors Of The Wind", "Baby Mine", "I Want A Mom That Will Last Forever", and "Sora" by Yoko Kanno.