Rain. When did it start raining? Wasn't the world bright and warm only a moment ago? Had he really been asleep for so long that the sun had been engulfed by thunderclouds without even a warning?
It shouldn't be a surprise. It's how England always had been.
Forcing himself to sit up from the bench, the wood that had once been covered by his body dry for only a moment as the sky's tears darkened the brown. Turning back to look at where he had momentarily been resting it was as though the rain was mocking him, erasing any indication of where he once lay.
Hands shoved into pockets, legs stretching awake, he stood and looked up at the sky, or lack thereof. It was a silly thing to do; the rain only hindered his vision. How was it that something so clean, so pure, could do so much damage to man. But the same could be asked of anything Mother Nature brought. She came first; man had to adapt.
Well, that was enough of those time-wasting thoughts. It wasn't by chance he was in this particular park, past memories pulling him to it. The slide seemed much faster then, the monkey bars almost too high to reach, swings so fast that he felt ready to take off at any moment. Now it all seemed like just that; a memory, images playing in his mind.
"Push me, England! I want to go higher!"
Laughter echoed in his mind, laughter so pure it could only be that of a child. Blonde locks shook vigorously; an attempt to clear the memory. It really only made him dizzy and the world seemed to sway as his eyes cracked open, lines that should be straight obscured by the film of water on his lenses. It didn't matter, though, as even if he were blind his feet would lead him along the invisible path.
It seemed only minutes passed until he stood in front of the familiar door. Green paint layered over the years of wear, history hidden behind latex. Fingers paused along the frame; sentimental smile, saddened eyes, memories from when he was forbidden to play baseball until he finished his studies. The door would be the one to bear the anger of a child, perfectly round indentations barely felt under the green, but still there.
A long pause, a deep breath, building courage that should have come naturally. Rapping of knuckles on aged wood seemed to echo, time stood still. The sound of the falling drops on pavement increase, though it doesn't matter, the water has already spread under the leather of his jacket.
All he sees is green, all he hears is rain. No. There is another. Footsteps. They grow near, the soft thud becoming louder than the droplets. Nerves, sweat mixed in the rain, worry. Fear. Run, it says. It speaks too late.
Retreating from the door, but his feet never move. Warmth, smells of tea and treats, feeling of eyes on him. Emotion. Through water and lenses, his own focus.
And all he sees is green.
Author's Notes:
So I was in the mood to write something, but I didn't know what. So I just stared at my screen and began typing. I didn't know where this was going, or if it was going anywhere at all. Just kind of happened.
The ending, I suppose, can be deciphered a few different ways. There is no right meaning and no wrong meaning, so just imagine it however your mind does.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters of Axis Powers: Hetalia. If I did it would have never gotten past one page. -procrastinator- Be thankful!
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