" Aren't the momiji leaves beautiful, Asa-san…—? "
'Indeed they are,' Arthur Kirkland sighed as he thought out his response to that age-old inquiry.
A sea of crimson, orange, and yellow leaves gathered at the feet of the two solitary souls who stood amidst the seemingly serene garden. 'Take a step, and another, and another.' Strolling calmly around the somehow large yet tranquil garden of the Japanese man was enough to soothe the ravaging soul of the Englishman.
It was silent— they walked silently, without a word spoken, and whatever phrases they wanted to utter out remained in each other's head. And yet, amidst the noiseless, crisp autumn afternoon, the two seemed to feel at ease— it was as if the mere presence of the other was enough to pacify whatever storms were raging inside their minds.
Crossing the lone pathway in what seemed like hours of roundabouts might sound rather dull and might eventually feel a bit tiresome, but nonetheless the two souls wandered the closed yet wide confines of the garden. 'Crossing paths and crossing smiles,' ; they remained their wordless promenade.
But that moment was gone.
That moment was long gone. Arthur himself knew that, no matter what he did, he could not return to that period of silent bliss. He knew that he could no longer go back through time just to experience the same things again.
That wistful October afternoon went and flew, just like the red leaves flew on that day.
Today has been an October day spent in silence, just like that day was. But instead of leaves colouring the distant horizon in a kaleidoscope of reddish hues, the only colour in sight was the darkness that befell the entire city as smoke, ash, and smog blew in the air, mixed in with the haunting smell of death.
'This was not what I wanted.'
'I did not mean for there to be any distrust.'
'I am so sorry.'
The reverberating thoughts haunted Arthur. Apologies he meant to write down plummeted instead to his heart, as if it were a force slowly trying to eat him up. Whatever regrets he have indeed written down have found their way into the trash bin.
No matter how much he had wanted to, he could not bring himself to show up at the doorstep of his former friend and lover and apologise to his face.
Besides, what was he to do?
Both of them were on the opposing sides of the war; with Kiku on the Axis and him on the Allied Forces. No matter how much he longed for an armistice between his country and theirs, the ongoing war held him back. It held him back as if it were a chain around his neck.
A chain that was also slowly choking him.
" Ah, the cherry blossoms are finally blooming. They always are such a pleasing sight. "
Even as the warm breaths of spring blew on their cheeks, Arthur could not help but feel a slight chill run down his spine.
It was quite a sight to be on top of one of the nearby hills, beneath one of the many cherry blossom trees abundant in the area. Dark arms spread out, up towards the sky, and at the tip of their fingers pink flowers danced simultaneously with the wind.
"…the alliance feels as if it were slowly diminishing, Asa-san."
"…don't let that worry you too much, Kiku."
"…alright. I suppose that, for now, we should enjoy the moment."
Grins were plastered on their faces that when they took a glance at each other, it seemed as if they were looking at a mirror, despite the fact that they were of different ethnicities.
And yet…
Years after that breezy spring morning, Arthur never thought that that smile he so wanted and loved to see would meet him as a frown in the battlefield.
Heavy, short breaths pained his chest, as if there were a rope around his neck slowly and gradually tightening.
Brown eyes narrowed at him, piercing his own emerald ones. Katana in one heavily wounded hand, the Japanese man had his own share of pained gasps.
"…surrender now, Kiku."
He wasn't even aware that those words slipped out of his mouth. He wasn't even conscious when he slowly raised his gun to the Japanese's side. He wasn't even aware that his grip on the trigger was shaky, yet tightening.
He didn't even know that he had shot them until he heard a blast, a thud, and until he saw them grabbing their side in an extremely desperate attempt to stop the blood from gushing out.
" …Asa-san. …Asa-san, at least promise me this… don't hurt any more of the innocent people. "
That scene played over and over, and no matter how hard he tried to throw these thoughts away, they stood their ground and persisted on.
Even if he did not show much, that memory gripped his heart, and for quite some time even the most mundane of activities seemed like such a heavy burden to do.
…oh, what he would give, just to return to those happy periods in time. What he would do just to get even a small taste of the past.
What did both of them lose, then?
What had they done for them to live in the opposing sides of the battleground?
" Asa-san…? Leaving so soon…? "
'…no. No, I don't want to.'
Even if he had said the words, it was still required of him to leave.
The blossoms wafting in the air was not reason enough for him to stay.
" …I'll stay here until you get back. "
'…Kiku, I'm afraid that I won't be going back…'
" …I'm sorry that the Alliance ended."
"…don't worry, Kiku; it was much more my fault than it is yours."
Seasons passed. Years passed.
The Alliance met its demise.
The Second World War had begun; though, it passed by, and now the war has ended.
The Treaty of San Francisco had been signed. The fighting has officially ceased.
Nonetheless, the atmosphere clouding above the room still made Arthur the slightest bit uncomfortable.
The nations piled out of the room; some talking and chatting amongst themselves as if everything were back to normal and that no war had taken place; others hurriedly rushed out of the room in order to get back to their respective countries.
Even as they walked alongside, Arthur and Kiku had an air of silence surrounding them. Neither of them spoke a word, much more take a quick glimpse at the other.
And yet, the silence was more than enough for the two to bear.
Desperate to shatter the silence, Arthur, without ever so much as casting a look at the shorter nation, averted his gaze to the opposite direction, and opened his mouth.
"…Kiku. I'm so sorry."
The Japanese, evidently surprised, could only bob his head up and down in a gesture of acknowledgement. Raising his head a little, he gave off a smile.
That smile that Arthur had long wanted to witness again.