Sunflower Man

by Valori Kei

Alfred F. Jones only wanted people to smile. He painted the walls with joy and dreams. When his childhood friend finds him, Alfred's life is thrown into a confusing chaos of trying to keep Ivan away from his boyfriend, Arthur, who wants nothing more than to keep Alfred in his line of sight at all times, using any means necessary. Will include RusAme and UKUS in later chapters.

1. Prologue: In Which We Meet the Hero

Oh gosh, I actually posted something! Woah... just a heads up, my chapters will probably be relatively short, perhaps 2000 words per, tops. But, short chapters mean more chapters right?

...right?

If you want to review, TEAR THIS STORY TO SHREDS. Or, you know, leave a nice comment, I'm always low on enthusiasm so comments are nice. But please, criticize this as much as you can, I won't be getting any better without knowing what's wrong~

WARNINGS: Will (in later chapters) include lemons, swearing, possibly dark themes and abuse, RusAme and UKUS.

DISCLAIMER: Hetalia is NOT mine. (But i do have a copy of seasons 1-3, the movie, two one coin figures, key chains and dolls that i hand-crafted myself. But still not mine.)

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Prologue: In Which We Meet the Hero

Painting has always been my passion, my life's yearning, for as long as I can remember. I doodled my childhood dramas all over the walls of my family's plain apartment in the artsy part of Los Angeles. I marked all of the sidewalks and playgrounds with elaborate chalk swirls and stick people, their simplicity reflecting my own. As the years passed, my chicken scratch evolved, taking the forms of the planets and the stars, but, most importantly, my dreams. My dreams were more than being president or a famous movie star; no, I had bigger dreams than that. I wanted to be the hero of the people, making everyone around me smile with the simple joys of life. That was my dream.

So, I pursued it. I did everything in my power to make people happy, devoting myself to community service, covering a wide variety of lives. Soup kitchens, elderly homes, pet shelters, parks, and if you asked any service staff, they would know who I am. Well, I never gave my name, but they all knew me by my trademark.

Because everyone knew the Sunflower Man.

You see, when I was younger, our kindergarten class took a trip to a farm. While all of the other children pet the goats and chased after the pecking chickens, I stood by the side, mesmerized. At that point, I had just started formulating my dream, my vision of smiles. And there it was. The tallest flowers my five year old eyes had ever seen, the bright petals waving slightly as the miniature suns seemed to smile broadly at me. Sunflowers. I don't remember much else from my early childhood, except for a single, small smile. I forget who it was that was with me in the field of sunflowers that day, but it is definitely my fondest memory. After that day I realized my dream, and pushed myself as far as I could to make others happy.

Perhaps, it was because of my eagerness to make others happy that I began to paint building walls with elaborate and, if I may say so, beautiful murals of sea creatures and waterfalls and space and anything I could think of. But there was always a constant factor in my work. I would always include a sunflower as my signature, never writing my real name. I worked solely at night, so not many could recognize my face, and rumors spread of a mysterious Sunflower Man, who would paint the walls little by little every night until a magnificent scene took shape. When I volunteered, I went by Shakuru; since someone told me that it basically means 'Sun' in my mother's Native American roots, I go with that. Most people couldn't remember that though, and after a bit my nickname evolved to Sunflower and then Sunflower Man. Very few know my real name, the name my English father gave to me:

-Alfred F. Jones.