"ENGLAD!" a high pitched scream tore through the air, cutting strait through the open library door, and into my ears. I gasped, and dropped my feather quill onto a spotless piece of parchment, streaking the page with black, oily ink. Swearing, I removed quill and threw it to the side before it could travel down the wooden desk and onto the floor. Damn, I thought, trying to clean as much of the ink as I could off the paper. I had just started to write a letter to the King, an important letter regarding the status of the colonies here in America, but now I would have to re-write it again later. Sighing, I wiped my ink stained hands on a nearby cloth. There, I had stopped the flow of the ink from spreading; now I would have to go find the source that had caused me to make such a clumsy mistake.
I strode out of the library and out of the house, looking left and right for America. I had left him outside just a minute ago; he should have known not to go too wander too far away that I might not be able to see him. I stopped walking when I reached a wide field of grass and held my hand over my eyes to shade them from the sun. This was the very same place where I had first met my younger brother. I knew America would be here, because this was his favorite place to go. He loved to stare up at the sky for hours on end, watching for recognizable shapes in the clouds, while other times he pretended to be an Indian stalking through the wilderness, as quiet and alien as the spirits they worshiped.
Cupping my hands around my mouth, I shouted:
"America! Where are you?" The wind whistled through my hair and around my clothes, causing the blades of grass to ripple and bend. Sometimes, the land here seemed more similar to the ocean that I had traveled on for weeks at end then the sturdy ground of the New World that I had become familiar with. After some time, I spotted a speck of brown running towards at me through the sea of green. It was moving at a quick pace, faster and more urgent than even the normal, energy-filled sprint that America usually moved with. I frowned as the child drew closer; he was staring down at the ground and he stumbled blindly in my direction, not even bothering to see where he was going.
I caught the boy around the middle when he finally reached me. Something was wrong; I could feel that he was shaking uncontrollably, and hysterical, tiny gasps were coming from his mouth. Crouching down, I gently took the boy's chin and forced his head up to look at me. Tear filled blue orbs stared back at me from red, puffy eyes and he wrapping his arms around himself in an almost protective manner.
"America, what's wrong?" I asked. He sniffed loudly before slowly lowering his arms, revealing a small, tiny rabbit with dark, long ears and white fur in his hands. Looking up at America quizzically before turning back to the unnaturally still animal, I reached forward and touched the soft pelt. To my surprise, it was cold and not warm with the usual body heat that came from living creatures.
"H-he won't wake up," America told me tearfully. "Why won't Usa wake up? Why won't he talk to me? Is he mad at me? Did I do something wrong?" Realization dawned on me as I felt the non-existent pulse of the bunny. I looked back up at America, unsure of how to tell the boy that the rabbit that had been with him for his entire life was now dead.
"I don't think he's mad at you, America," I said gently.
"W-what is it then? Is he hurt?" America immediately began to search for any evidence that his pet had been harmed. I reached out with my hand to stop him.
"No, I don't think it's that either love."
"Then- then- then-" He started hiccupping, tears running down his cheeks.
"America, he- your rabbit- I believe he is dead."
The boy went deathly pale.
"What?" the question was barely loud enough for me to hear.
"He doesn't have a pulse, America. That means he's not here anymore."
"I- I don't understand. Of course he's here, see!" He thrust the animal at me in a desperate attempt to deny what had happened.
"No, I mean, his spirit- the thing that makes him who he is- is gone from this world." A bad feeling was growing in my stomach as I watched America stare back at me blankly. "He isn't going to wake up, America. I'm sorry."
At this America drew a deep breath, as if my words had confirmed some unknown fear of his. His lip trembled and then he launched himself into my arms, crying hysterically as if the rabbit had been a close family member rather than a mere animal. I hugged the boy back, squeezing him as hard as I could while he sobbed into my clothes, tremors running through his small body. I stroked his golden hair and murmured words of comfort into his ear. It was a long time before he stepped away from me. Tear tracks were drying on his cheeks and I brushed them gently away with my thumb.
"Would you like me to bury him?" I asked quietly, afraid that my words would cause another stream of agony. America nodded and handed me the body.
"Can you do it? I don't want to see him like that."
"Of course," I said. "Are you sure that's what you want?"
"Yes," He replied sadly.
"Alright, love. Why don't you go back to the house and clean yourself up for supper then, alright?"
Without saying another word to me, he turned on his heel and walked back across the clearing, his tiny shoulders hunched. I watched him go, unhappy that the child had been exposed to such a sad thing as death at such an early age.
The next day, I had to leave again for London. I had been worried about abandoning America while he was still upset about what had happened the previous day, but to my amazement, the boy acted as if nothing had happened. He was just as happy and innocent as he normally was. Right before I left, we exchanged hugs like we always did, but this time, America clutched to me for a bit tighter and longer than he ever had before.
"America, are you alright?" I asked as we separated. The boy hesitated, but nodded.
"Yeah, I'm okay. Just, can you promise me one thing before you leave?"
"Of course, anything." I answered.
"Don't fall asleep like Usa did, okay?" He begged. "I wouldn't be able to stand it if you left me too." I felt a lump in my throat and crushed America in another tight embrace.
"I won't ever abandon you like that," I whispered into his ear. "I swear."
A few months later, nothing had changed in the field. The grass was still green, the sky was still blue, and a little boy with gold hair still came to play almost every day. The only difference was that now the little boy would stop to visit a small lump in the ground at the edge of the trees. More often than not, he would bring small rocks or flowers to leave beside the grave. Today, he brought some carrots he had grown from the garden next to his house.
As he laid down the vegetables, the boy heard a loud screeching sound from above his head. Startled, he looked up and found himself watching a dark shape gliding through the sky. The figure landed a few feet from him, and the boy discovered that the animal was a bird. A big, beautiful bird, with white feathers on his head that turned into a deep brown as dark and rich as soil. Yellow eyes met blue and the pair watched each other with rapt attention. The boy stayed still, unable to move.
Then, without warning, the bird took off again, flying away into the trees. The golden-haired boy let out a breath he had not realized he was holding, and gazed at the forest for a long time before he found the will to stand up and walk away.
Interpret as you wish. I do not own Hetalia.
The bunny's name is Usa because it is the Japanese word for rabbit (I think). The bunny is in episode 39 of Hetalia Axis Powers.
The bird is the bald eagle and the boy is America, if it was not clear enough by my description of the two.
11/29/2011