A short wall of framed photographs and paintings came into view.
She had wandered to the aisle England had put the furthest away from the guest halls. It was the closest wall to his storage room; the one filled with his old, nostalgia inducing mementos from throughout his life. All the scenes captured and hung on this wall were of the declarations of colonies that gained independence; colonies that broke off from him many years ago. They were the happy moments a colony is finally declared independent; and where England loses a kin.
Singapore quickly sought out hers.
It was the tiny, black and white photo of England's boss granting Singapore independence in 1963.
"Singapore! Your boss came asking for independence! What is the meaning of this?"
Singapore says nothing, turning to move towards the full-length glass windows that walled the back of the office.
"Have I not provided for you for so many years?" He questioned in an almost hysterical tone.
That is to be expected. England is still recovering from the war. And many other colonies were fighting for independence at the same time she was asking for it. Briefly, she wondered what it feels like to bring up nation after nation only to have them rebel and seek to separate themselves from him. If it was concern she felt for England, she did not show it.
"If this is about the surrender, have I not given my word to protect you for the years to come?"
Still she remained silent. Touching three fingers of her hand to the glass of the window lightly, she watched as heat radiating from her digits generate pale rings of vapor that quickly vanished.
"Singapore!"
She huffed a sigh, forming a short-lived imprint of her breath on the glass.
"What I'm asking for is freedom, England," She declared as she turned to face him. England almost visibly recoiled. Her eyes were hard, coldly addressing him. Those were the eyes of a stranger; a challenger; an enemy. Where did the child he brought up go?
"What is wrong with you!" England exclaimed, stunned by the rapid change in attitude of the colony.
Unblinking, stone cold eyes stared him down. "After the surrender, it became obvious to me and my people that it is imperative to finally begin relying on our own strength when all we depended on fail." The chill in her voice dropped another degree. "And you did fail."
Immobilized by shock, England's mouth hung agape. When did she…?
For a long, hard moment, Singapore continued glaring at him. The air grew stiflingly suffocating. Abruptly, she dropped her eyes. She was already regretting spewing out her scripted speech. Her jaw clenched at the thought of having hurt England, the father figure of her childhood. All the countless hours spent trying to force the necessary words out of her mouth while travelling to England, trying to make it sound natural and convincing, only for her to clam up at the last crucial moment… It's no good. She couldn't bring herself to finish what she came to say.
Singapore looked back up to find England had turned his back on her. His shoulders were almost imperceptibly shaking. As if she wasn't already choking on words, now she had to suppress the rising fear that England – strong, brave, loving England – was crying. How was she supposed to deal with knowing her words was making him cry? This wasn't in the briefing!
Slightly trembling fingers swept her fringe up, combing through her hair; a nervous habit she had picked up ever since she returned to her land to deal with the repercussions of the war.
Swallowing what little fluid there was in her mouth, Singapore cautiously approached the hunched figure. She could see his hand covering his eyes now. A tiny drop of liquid dribbled down the inner side of his arm. She felt as though her stomach fell to her feet.
She did not remember moving, or what bizarre thought put her into action in the first place, but in a flash, Singapore had her arms around England's waist, pressing her face into his back.
"I'm sorry!" She cried, "I'm sorry! That's what they wanted me to say. I didn't mean it! I'm sorry! I'm sorry…"
But what was said could never be undone.
And so the Fate continued to dance with its unwilling pawns…
A/N: Ah~ I didn't do much research on this, it's all pulled from social studies and wikipedia. Crappy piece at best :P This was written some two weeks ago when I was still procrastinating from school work. Well, I still am. But that's besides the point. Hope you enjoyed that :) If you can spare just a few minutes, do leave a review; I don't mind if you flame, as long as I know where I went wrong (or right ;P).
Historical references: The United Kingdom surrendered Singapore to the Imperial Japanese Army on 15 February 1942, which began the three and a half years of Japanese Occupation that ended on 12 September 1945. After the brief celebration of the Japanese's surrender and the British Colonial masters' return, anti-colonial sentiments rose amongst the then settlers in Singapore. This fic takes place around 1956, during the Merdeka Talks (merdeka: independence/freedom). Much happened during this period of general unrest and chaos. Singapore's independence from the United Kingdom was eventually granted in 1963 on the condition that she was to form a merger with Malaya, Sabah and Sarawak to form the Federation of Malaysia (of course, the Merger fell apart in 1965...but that's a whole other issue altogether).