Take Flight
If he was supposed to be the land of the free, why did he feel so stifled? No matter where he turned, there were always hostile faces. No matter what he did, there was someone there to shoot him down. And it wasn't as though he hadn't been trying.
Ever since he'd won his independence from England... no, even before that, his entire existence had been one long attempt to prove himself. First to his once-beloved adoptive brother, then to the world, that he could survive. That he could thrive, and prosper and that it was something *anyone* could achieve if they would try. When he finally grew tired of their continued derision and their scorn, when he finally decided to wash his hands of the world, God put it back into his unwilling arms. It was a sign that he was not to turn his back on this world, that he was meant to care for it, to lead it.
He'd taken to task with enthusiasm, but not the way the Old World had chosen to take the world. No, what he wanted was not to rule, but to guide, to share his beautiful vision with the world. He'd wanted to protect everyone, and, for awhile, they wanted his protection.
When did things go wrong? Was it because of Vietnam? Or was he merely wrong in the first place, and only tolerated because he was so strong, because he was the only idiot who would work to protect the interests of other anymore? It seemed that he could no longer do anything right.
If he tried to pull back, they would ask him why he didn't care. If he intervened, they would accuse him of trying to stoke his own ego. If he offered aid, they would eye him warily and whisper that he was only courting popularity. If he tried to impose sanctions, they would complain of discrimination and protectionism. As if they hadn't done every single one of those things before.
He hadn't known back then, when he decided to save the world, that the world could be so heavy to bear.
There were days when he thought that Russia did the right thing by giving up and offering him the rest of the world. After all, that bastard was still happily causing trouble in Europe, unfettered by external interests to protect, while he was here, sitting beside Lady Liberty's crown, feeling the noose of responsibility tightening with every second.
Where were the days when an honest day's work was honestly rewarded? What happened to the time when he could fly freely after his dreams without being shackled by bureaucracy, politics and the relentless judgement from the rest of the world? Couldn't they see he'd been trying? That he'd always been trying and that he was only human, and that it wasn't fair to blame him for everything he'd ever done or chosen not to do? Couldn't they see that he loved this world, perhaps more than any one of them ever did?
It was breaking his heart.
From here, he could see the sky, but it was a bounded sky, not the vast expanse he'd always loved. Even if he tried to fly here...
It would be a long way down, but he would get to see her face. Lady Liberty, whom he loved, whom he'd wanted the world to love, who was looked as though she was crying on his behalf. She might be the only one. Surely, no one in the rest of the world would even care if he jumped. Even if they did, it would be to curse him for leaving them with 'his' problems, as if none of them shared the blame at all.
But at least he wouldn't be around to hear them, huh?
Smiling darkly to himself, America stood up, balancing precariously on Liberty's head. She was taking a step, a step away from oppression, a step toward freedom. And he would take a step from here, a step away from oppression, a step into freedom.
"America-san!"
He paused, knowing without turning who it would be.
"Please don't jump. Suicide is not the only option," entreated the voice, drawing a laugh from America.
"That's really funny, you know? Coming from you."
It was cruel of him, but, really, he was so tired of trying anymore. All he wanted was to spread his arms and leap. Perhap he would fly instead of falling, but he wasn't going to bet on that. But even as he was trying to remove himself, trying to remove the problem that was himself from the world, someone was getting in the way. Someone always had a contrary opinion.
"Please," softer now, sadder. "America-san, please come back inside. If there's anything bothering you, we can talk. Inside. Please?"
"Isn't it considered honourable in your culture to end yourself when you've done something shameful?" asked America, eyes still staring into the distance.
"Then consider this my selfish request!"
To hear such emotion coming from the usually soft-spoken man was enough to make America turn. Unfortunately, it wasn't a good place to be turning around and he slipped, too surprised to even cry out. Japan did it for him, lunging out of the window, desperately grasping for him.
Somehow, he managed to get one hand on the window's edge, arresting his fall. His other arm was wrapped around Japan, who had fallen out of the window while trying to catch him. Not that the smaller man would have succeeded, considering the difference in weight.
"O... oi! What the hell were you thinking?!"
"I.... I... I couldn't let America-san fall," came the stammered reply. "I couldn't!"
America sighed quietly. Why did things have to get so complicated?
"Look, I'll give you a boost back up to the window, so get ready to grab on, ok?"
"And you will come back in too?" asked Japan quietly, hopefully.
America looked up at the crown towering above them. If he turned his head, he could see the torch, glimmering gold from reflected light. But if he looked down, he could see the ground, and he could remember that he'd spent too many years waiting and hoping.
"I haven't decided yet," he admitted softly into Japan's hair.
"Then let me convince you."
He felt the smaller man shift slightly, so that his voice wasn't so muffled by America's own body. He could feel Japan trembling, pressed up to him like that, but when the man spoke, his voice was steady.
"We need you. The world needs you. Even if they complain, even if they protest, you are... you are the lynchpin that holds the world together."
"Why should I have to bend over backwards to please them? Maybe they don't deserve me," America retorted.
"That is why I said it is my selfish request." Japan tried to look up, to meet his eyes, and he could see that the man's face was white and frightened, but still, his voice remained unwavering. "I know I have been selfish. After the war, I thought, 'America-san is strong' and I thought that I could just depend on that strength alone to prosper. Even when I could stand alone on my own feet again, I thought selfishly that I would still depend of America-san, because you were still strong, strong enough to move the world.
"But it was wrong, and it was selfish, when I should have tried to stand on my own, to burden you with my burdens, when the rest of the world was doing the same. I should have stood up to help you bear your burdens, as you did for me when I was weak. I have been selfish, but I am sorry, please let me be selfish one more time. Please don't let yourself fall. Please?"
By the time he got to the end, his voice was a whisper, but it was clear enough for America.
"I will try my best, and, though it will take time, I will try to help you hold up the other end of the world. I don't know how long it's going to take, but please give me a chance! Please give it a chance!"
To share the burden of the world? Somehow, he didn't think it was going to happen. But Japan sounded so earnest, so sincere, and, as he looked down at that white face, he realised something that he'd forgotten for so long.
He wasn't doing this for fame or glory. He wasn't doing this purely for acknowledgement or to fulfil his fragile pride (though, if forced to, he would have to admit they played a part, but he was only human, after all). He tried his best to protect the world because it was something that needed to be done. There were still people who would cry for him if he was gone, and there were people who would only suffer if he wasn't around. Even if he had to endure the taunts and malice of the world, it was part of a hero's job, after all.
Silently, he thanked God for a second chance, the second chance that came in the form of the trembling man in his arms. Then, he smiled.
"Let's go back."
When Japan smiled shakily back, he knew that he'd made the right decision.
Notes:
The Statue of Liberty has been closed to the public since the terror attack of 2001, I believe. It's still not open yet, but I'm sure nations can find their way up there if they want to.
God. Because America is still quite a religious country, even if I do not agree with it personally.
Japan. It's interesting, because back when they were fighting WWII, one of their intended outcomes was to create an 'East-Asian Prosperity Sphere' and become one of the pillar economies. But after the war, and even after they'd made progress as an economy, they decided to stick to the 'make America buy our stuff' Asian model. Because it was easier? Or because they didn't want to be seen as antagonistic toward their neighbours, many of whom are still quite wary of Japan? Recently, though they're trying to restructure their economy, because, obviously, it's impossible to expect America to just buy and buy forever, right?
Timeline: Present day, during the 09 global financial crisis.