Smile
A Hetalia; Axis Powers fanfiction
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia; Axis Powers. Hetalia; Axis Powers is the rightful property Hidekaz Himaruya.
Characters: Brunei (OC, Male), Malaysia (OC, Male), Singapore(OC,Male).
Summary: And most importantly; I get to see your radiant smile.
Pairing(s): Singapore/Brunei, Malaysia/Brunei
Genre: Angst/Tragedy, Romance, slight Friendship
Warning: Yaoi romance, character death.
You could never open your eyes even when the clock's alarm rang the loudest. Not even a tiny twitch on your sleep-filled eyes. You were always awakened by the touch of my hand. A simple touch on your soft, sun-kissed cheeks with the back of my fingers, gently sliding it down, and up again, following the delicate curves of your cheek. That is when your eyes showed signs of liveliness; your dark brown eyes showing itself to the world, and a new day.
Have I ever mentioned how much I loved your wonderful eyes? Like your country, the Abode of Peace, it showed warmth, gentleness, it soothes me to my very mind and soul. And the fact that I am always the first thing, or person, or country, that you see at a new day, every day, nothing could make me happier.
Your soft lips, those very lips that I constantly placed mine upon, curves to a gentle, heart-warming smile. You would turn your beautiful face closer to my hand which is still against your cheek, and speak in a low, yet audible, gentle voice. A simple, loving "Good morning" from your tender lips and silk-like voice.
It never ceases to make me smile. I would return your words, exactly the same, but with the addition of a pet name I had always given you. It was either "Sayang", which means "Darling" in your mother language, or "Darling", or "Honey", which you always respond with an even brighter smile. At times I would call you "Babe" or "Shorty" to see a completely different reaction from you; a small, unintimidating scowl, with your lips curved into an adorable pout.
Being a shy person you are, we have yet showered together, although we are of the same gender, and it does not include the times we showered together when we were kids. Either you or I will shower first. While one showers, the other cooks breakfast. It still appalls me that such a rich nation such as yourself refuses to hire a cook and a maid, or butler, to do the housework. Every time you stay at my place, you would politely dismiss my cooks and maids from doing any housework for you; you only need their help when necessary. You will always reply;
"Humility is what I am raised for."
Yet another trait I love about you.
My cup was always filled with coffee, while yours is always filled with tea; perhaps it is the influence of your former colonizer, England. We would talk about what we should do for the day, or about work, or dinner; anything. I could care less about the topic. What I care is to see your bright smile, and hear your soft voice.
We would kiss each other at the doorway, when one of us, or both of us have any work. If we both have work, either I drive with my Class-A Mercedes, or your cherry red Ferrari to work. You have always been a big collector of expensive cars, much like your Sultan.
During day our day offs, we would go out, just the two of us. We would go to our usual gelato store, sitting outside at our usual seat, under the usual parasol. We would order the fanciest gelato and share it together, and at times, you would spoon it and feed me with it. I was always reluctant to comply, but with that smile of yours, my reluctance was pushed aside, and graciously placed my lips on the spoon, savouring your offering of the cool, smooth dessert. I rarely do the same gesture to you, which you do not mind, not one bit, because you are fully aware of my shyness of displaying public affections. Another factor that I love about you.
Occasionally, you would open a white, silver-lined photo album, which contains all the photos which consists of both us. Just the two of us. Your most favourite photo would be the time when we were dating at Tasik Merimbun, where we first held hands, and our first date. My favourite would be when we took a photo of ourselves when we rode the Eye of Singapore; the largest Ferris Wheel in South East Asia. Because, that is where I first kissed you. But, our favourites would shift to the latest photo of ourselves; a photo of us wearing a matching set of rings. Our engagement rings.
I remembered how I proposed to you. Back at my condo, where we share a rare candlelight dinner, the dishes were all of our fanciest favourites. The condo was cleaned thoroughly by the maids, and I sent them and the chef to live at the most expensive hotel for a few days as a reward for their hard work, and everything was paid by yours truly. But my main purpose of sending them away was to ensure nobody would interfere with my purpose behind the dinner.
During dessert, I on purposely volunteered to refill your glass, and I 'accidentally' spilled some on your delicate hands. I promptly apologize for my 'blunder', kneel down in the appropriate position, gently wiping your fragile fingers and secretly slipping the ring on your wedding finger. As I pulled one of my hands and napkin away, my other hand is still holding your fingers. Your eyes widen at the shimmering diamond ring I placed upon your finger. And that is when I said the words you were anticipating.
"Will you marry me?"
And your reply was an instant hug and a repeated "Yes" while sobbing in happiness.
It was the happiest moment in our lives.
But, not anymore.
It was the most heart-clenching moment in our lives now.
You no longer wake against the touch of my fingers, but the false hope of my fingers against your skin. You're the first thing your eyes lay upon is no longer my face. The first sound you hear was not my voice, but the incessant ringing of the clock's alarm. Your lips never curve to that lovely smile.
Breakfast is now always done by your hands. Your cup is always filled with tea, whilst mine is kept in the kitchen cupboard, never to be filled again. The dining table is constantly silent, the sound of you eating your breakfast aside.
No more kiss was shared at the doorway. No more Class-A Mercedes to sit upon. Just your vast collection of Ferraris.
The table that we constantly share at the gelato store is now constantly occupied by other couples sharing a fancy gelato meal. The parasol now shelters new faces. We no longer share the same spoon. It was no longer a place we set our foot upon.
The album you had the favour of opening once every week is now abandoned deep in your closet. The album's shine is slowly lost, the lush white turning brown.
And our rings sleep in your bureau drawer.
But after several months, you have finally taken out the browning album, freeing it from the depths of your miscellaneous clothing articles. You daydream whenever you see each picture, a silent smile creeps on your lips. You trace your still-delicate fingers upon my face on the photo, your eyes filled with tears, and I can see you are fighting them back. You finally reach the final page of the album, and our final photo together.
That is when you stop your struggle with your tears.
At last, your tears fall.
How long will you not smile?
When will you smile once more for me again?
No.
You just can't.
Not after what I did, just a few days before our wedding.
…
…
…
For several years, the rings still lay dormant in your drawer, and the album finally lost its shine.
But, not anymore.
After so many years of slumber, they are finally out of their chambers.
Today, you woke up to the anticipation of a brand new day, not my touch. Today, you eat your breakfast while looking at the album.
For the final time.
You still smile when you look at the pictures, but this time, you did not shed any tear. And your smile was pure.
Soon, the doorbell rings. As if on cue, you gently closed the album shut, never to be opened again.
There, in the doorway, stands a nation who is taller that both you and I; the personification of Malaysia.
Our older brother-figure, childhood friend, and close friend. My best friend.
I have known Malaysia that he has a heart for you, even after we dated. Like a good friend he is, he held back his feelings for you, and supported the both of us, even until now. He is a good man, in and out.
I could no longer touch you, hold you, cook breakfast for you, kiss you, drive you, share desserts with you, go out with you, and propose to you. The only person that can do all of those is now the man standing before you; Malaysia.
But if Malaysia is the person who does those, it's fine.
Because he is the one who returned your smile, and makes you smile.
You walk into his arms and share a kiss with him, which both of you comply.
No, it did not hurt one bit.
Instead, I'm happy.
Happy for both of you.
Happy for you.
Happy because you finally smile.
A true smile after so many years.
And the person who made it possible is Malaysia.
…
…
…
You both still embrace each other at the hallway. I smile; my final smile before I go.
I can finally go after this.
I couldn't before, because you ceased smiling.
I never wanted to leave until I finally see it again.
But now, I am content.
You are no longer alone.
And most importantly; I get to see your radiant smile once again.
Yes…
Your smile…
The lights are brighter…
I'm feeling light…
Peaceful…
Malaysia…
Take care of Brunei…
And Brunei…
Sweet, innocent Brunei…
For appearing in my life…
I thank you…
Both of you…
I'll be going now…
Farewell…
…
…
…
I pull away from Malaysia's lips, but I still remain in his arms. He's being extra careful with me today.
Because, today is the day.
He pulled away, looking into my eyes intently.
"Are you ready, Sayang?"
Oh, that pet name. How I love it until now. Even though it's uttered by Malaysia, and no longer by you.
I give him a reassuring, genuine smile.
"I won't if you don't let me go right now."
He smirks, letting me go, slowly and gently. Darn you, Malaysia. Your smirk always gets to me. Grinning, I rush over to my dining table where my photo album lay. I gently picked it up, smiling at it. I place it in a cardboard box, where the rest of your belongings are. I seal it with a duct tape, and carry it over to the doorway. Upon seeing myself carrying the enormous box, Malaysia instantly helps; he heaves the box from my hands and carries it away to his latest Proton car. I lock the door, and soon I sat beside him in his car. Then, he drove to the place where you close your eyes for the final time.
The fire grew larger, burning away the box and its contents to nothingness and ashes. I remember the time you begged me to drive you to this place, even when you were in your worst condition. A field of flowers growing freely, and isolated from the concrete jungle.
I let you rest your weary head on my lap, while viewing the star-filled sky. You whispered sweet words in my ears. I couldn't bear to listen to them when you were in that condition. You just continued and placed your hand on my cheek.
"Smile for me, Shorty…"
I shook my head.
You just smile.
"Please…"
I did. With force, and tears clouding my vision.
You just smirked and rubbed my tear-stained cheek.
"Okay, that's good… For now…"
Your eyes were closing.
"I want you to continue smiling even after the time comes…"
"Don't. Stop talking, Singapore. Don't do this. It hurts…"
"I won't be in peace if you won't…"
"How could I…? My smile goes if you go…"
"I'm sure it'll return one day…"
"No it won't…"
A gasp.
"It will…"
Your eyes are closed shut.
"… Singapore…?"
Silence.
"Singapore…?!"
Dreadful silence.
After countless times of shaking your limp body and calling out name countless times, the world finally shattered.
I stopped smiling since then.
I couldn't cry during your funeral; I cried so much the night before your funeral to shed any more. Philippines, Vietnam and sister Indonesia were the only ones who mourned for your departing. Thailand, Myanmar, Cambodia, Laos looked at your tombstone in grief. Malaysia stood beside me, his hand on my shoulder, holding back his tears. Your Chinese siblings, China, Taiwan and Hong Kong, attended your funeral, grief stricken. India and England, too, came to honour you. I just stood in front of your grave, staring lifelessly.
I never showed my true smile to anyone ever since then. Only fake, forced 'smiles'. A great façade to hide my emptiness.
But all that ended when Malaysia stepped in.
Happy, cheerful Malaysia who always tries his best for everyone. I ignored him most of the times after you left, due to deep grief.
But slowly, and gradually, I opened up to him as he brought back light to my life, and helped me move on.
And little did I know I fell for him.
A few months ago, he confessed his feelings for me. I was a little reluctant at first, but I realized; I cannot keep clinging to you forever, and I cannot deny my feelings either. So I gladly reciprocate his feelings.
Which ended up in a bone-crushing hug and a deep kiss.
Soon, the fire died down. I had not noticed that I kept staring at it until the ember diminishes while holding Malaysia's hand. He walked closer to me and put his arm around me.
"You sure you okay with this?"
I nodded.
"Yes… I have no use for keeping them any longer. Every time I see them, they tend to stir sad memories of him in me, taking away my smile. He wouldn't want that…"
I leaned closer to Malaysia.
"Besides… The least I could do for him is to keep his final words. To keep smiling. And letting him go is the only way to do it."
"… Yeah." He kisses my head with a smile; glad I finally moved on.
I smile and proceed to pour water on the burnt earth with bottled water. I soon join Malaysia who is waiting for me next to his car. We got in, and I grasp the neatly laid bouquet of white lilies from the back seat. Now, we are going to the place where I am going to finally say my goodbye to you.
Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam are already waiting beside the entrance to the cemetery. We are soon joined with Laos, Philippines and older sister Indonesia. Nearly each country personification holds a bouquet. Soon, your tombstone is surrounded by bouquets of various flowers. Tracing my hand on the carving of your name, I say what I came to say.
"Goodbye, Singapore…"
…
…
…
I woke up to a soft touch on my cheek. It was cool, yet warm. I could not help but lean in into the touch. I hear the sound of someone chuckling and the feeling of a pair of soft lips on my forehead. I slowly open my heavy eyelids, seeing the face of my lover, who was smiling gently. I smiled and muttered a small "Good morning", which he replies with a cheerful tone. I placed my hand on his; the one on my cheek. Letting you go, and choosing Malaysia to spend my life was never a mistake. The idea of forgetting you hurts at first, but I never regretted it. Now, Malaysia's my everything, just how you used to be. He's the one who will bring me happiness.
And he will be the one who will make me smile every day.
And the very rings on our fingers prove it.
END
AUTHOR'S NOTE
This… is the longest oneshot I've ever made. And I actually cried at the bit where Singapore- Euhh, Singapore's ghost…? Ahem, tells that Brunei he can no longer spend time with poor Brun-Brun. *chokes on tears* And listinening To Kim Sung Gyu's song '60 Seconds' added the effect. I was greatly inspired after watching Ailee's music video 'Heaven'. I'm actually a big, secret fan of Male!Malaysia/Male!Brunei, (Or Male!Malaysia/Female!Brunei). Since i have friends that support Singapore/Brunei, so I decided to write this in conjunction for my very first fanfiction as as a present for them. But, in the end it ended up as Malaysia/Brunei, meh heh. Reviews, critiques and comments are appreciated, while flames are used to burn my dumb neighbour's karaoke set. Also, for those of you who haven't realized, Malaysia and Brunei are wearing the engagement rings Singapore bought for Brunei and himself. They decided to use those rings, because it's something Singapore would want. I'm not trying to make Brunei mean here by making him forget about Singapore, but try putting yourself in Singapore's shoes; do you want to make your loved one cry every time he or she sees your face, or your belongings? So yeah... (^_^)"
As for Brunei's quote: "Humility is what I am raised for", Brunei has the tradition to stay humble at all times, whether you are rich or not. So even though you are born in a wealthy family, you are encouraged to stay humble (like not showing off your things and stuff).
The reason why I made Singapore drive an expensive car is because Singapore is one the wealthy countries in the world, like Brunei.
Proton is Malaysia's own brand of car.
Thank you so much for reading!
Criticisms and reviews are appreciated.
-HaSila