Hello! I decided to make a one-shot on one of my favorite, brotherly love and sad Hetalia moments between America and Britain. I never get tired of "America's Storage Room Cleaning" I'm love with that episode. :) Though I don't like how the episode ends with Britain crying in the storm, so I made up my own version, had it judged by one of my friends, and agreed to have me type it up and publish it and HERE IT IS!

Enjoy :)

"From now on, consider me . . . independent!"

I could only stare. Why? Why do this to me? I could see America's face was tense with ambition. He held his rifle steady, pointing at me.

No . . . I can't let him get away with this! I suddenly charge at him, rifle raising at his head. My bayonet, instead, ramming into his weapon. America's last move of defense.

I dug my bayonet deeper and flung it out of America's hands.

It was all a blur. My heart was beating. I breathed heavily.

"I won't allow it! You idiot, why can't you follow everything through to the end?!"

I thought I heard a command from a soldier and the echoing clicks of rifles, but it was inaudible to me.

I stopped.

I intended to shoot him, but I couldn't . . . . something was holding me back. My gaze burned into his.

His blue eyes . . . his beautiful, blue eyes . . . I thought I saw a tint of fear in them.

Why . . . can't I shoot him, he has no weapon, one pull of the trigger and he would be dead! But then I would be dead . . .not because of America's support behind him . . . but because I love him.

Because deep down, I still love him.

Because deep down, I still see him as my little brother.

Those eyes of his, they remind me of when he was young, when was just a baby that was lost.

Oh no! What am I doing?

I lower my rifle, "There's no way I can shoot you, I can't!"

I drop my rifle, then I drop to my knees, pitifully defeated.

My throat tightened and I felt tears running down my face.

I sobbed.

"Why, dammit why! It's not fair!"

It wasn't fair because, I, his own brother, was just one step closer to pull that trigger.

I heard America's reply above my sobs, "You know why."

I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder, a forehead against mine. I then see blue orbs.

"You know I couldn't be a child forever, I can't hurt you either, you raised me, protected me, but I must be on my own. Don't worry, the memories will stay with me forever, Britain. I will never hate you. Deep down . . . I will always love you, brother."

I see a tear stream down his cheek, I tenderly wipe it away.

Then I was met with my younger brother wrapping his arms around me, I do the same. Still locked in our holds, we stand.

I smile, "You're right, you must be free." I loosen my hold to gaze once more into his.

My green, eyes match with his sea, blue orbs. I still see its innocence deep within.

"Be free, America."

Then as a sign for my brother's freedom to come . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . . I released him.