Author's Note: hey! This is my new story! I promise on a flying mint bunny I will try and update it, truly!
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. Sob.
Mid-July, 2001
For once, it wasn't raining in London. Instead, it was a sweltering hot day in July and America had recently had his birthday. Arthur Kirkland, the personification of England sighed and fanned himself in an attempt to cool down in the abnormal heat. Damn it, he'd been alive for over 2000 years, he should be used to all types of weather by now. He was walking back to his house with Francis, Alfred and Matthew. They'd just been to the G8 meeting in Westminster, and the others were staying at England's house. They would be staying for around a week, as they all had political matters to deal with in the country. Secretly, Arthur was glad they were all together; they hadn't been together outside of a meeting, without the others, in ages. His relationship with America was beginning to rebuild itself, although England doubted it would ever be the same again. The look America had in his eyes on that day on the battlefield… the little colony he'd raised was gone, and in his place was one of the world's powers; who Arthur was secretly very proud of, deep down.
And then there was Canada. For a country which is constantly forgotten, he was doing fine. His country was doing well, and people were beginning to notice he was actually there at meetings. He smiled, remembering little Matthew… and the bloody frog he, England, had somehow fallen in love with.
Yes, he and Francis had had many good times raising their colonies. But their little colonies were know big countries, and they both had the feelings of a parent: happiness that their child had grown up and done well for themselves, and sadness, for they no longer needed them. When they were raising them, they never had much time to think about it, but the thought of their colonies not needing them had scared the shit out of them. But, somewhere in their heads, they knew Alfred and Matthew still did need them. England was nearly always the first person America turned to for help, and occasionally Matthew would ring one of them for help.
But Arthur couldn't help but feel nostalgic for the times he did have a colony to raise; a child to care, nurture, protect and educate and importantly love. But there were no more colonies; no lands to discover and explore, all the nations had been founded. The only new nations were micro-nations, and Sealand was with Sweden now. England doubted he would be happy if he tried to claim him; he wanted independence and to be recognised as a nation, like America all those years ago. He sighed. Why was he even thinking about this? He'd had his time being a parent, it was done and dusted; a finished chapter in his life. The chances of being a guardian again were extremely low; who'd pick him, England, for God's sake? It wasn't going to happen. Shaking his head, he walked up his drive way and let himself into his house. He had to get dinner ready. With that, Arthur set off to the kitchen, not knowing of the trouble brewing in the not too distant future, and the fact that his time as a parent wasn't completely over…