ffc here!! I know, I've never left author's notes before, but this time it was called for. It's also my first time writing one of these "songfics". Honestly, it was challenging. I still have vague dissatisfactions. But you have to try in order to learn, and this was a pretty good exercise.

I absolutely love this song. Many know it from DDR; most who read this will, if they do at all, recognize it from Hetalia MAD videos. The name of the song is Blind Justice ~Torn Souls, Hurt Faiths~ a song by Zektbach. It's simply beautiful in sense of lyrics, I love this song very much. When I listen to it I really think, and at some point I formed a faint story around it; this one. An orbit of love and justice, how they conflict and how they are bound together. Add in some tragically construed history and-- SHAZAM. I wrote this.

I'm ever so sorry if I didn't make anything clear. The theme is conflicting justice, belief and faith, and inevitability. Alfred's justice is his freedom, Arthur's belief is in the inevitable and his former colony, their inevitability... well, I don't want to explain everything now~!!

Read on, please and thank you.


Am I allowed to say what's right?

He couldn't speak. It was not within the permissions of a simple colony to speak out against the homeland. Every time he looked on his streets, he felt like they weren't his. They belonged to big brother. Sure, they were named for him and under his rule, but since he was over-ruled it wasn't really his. Everything he saw angered him a little. Finally, he broke.
He took some of his closest supporters and went down to the coastline, to a dock in Boston. They commandeered a boat and loaded it with as many crates and bags of cargo that could be held. The boat was drifted out to the sea, Alfred F. Jones at the bow, looking across the sea towards the true homeland of most of his people with sadness, and anger.
"This is where it stops, big brother."
With that, he gathered his assistants and they co-operated in drowning the accursed British tea. This was the beginning of their long-deserved justice.

I believe that I am with you.
Our souls are two and related, amen.

The object of this protest was unaware as it occurred. He was in his study in the heart of London, performing his natural duties. All the while he could not help but let his mind stray to think of Alfred. His cute little boy, what was he doing right now? Well, no matter, the two of them were thick as thieves! They would always be brothers, even if Alfred was off making his own culture or something. They would always be with each-other, even across the ocean vast. That was a comforting thought by Arthur Kirkland.

- - - - - - -

Same soul that I've believed in and missed in my lonely life.
Holy war to save our soul.
Same fight we could do I hoped, for the genuine justice.

It was the 1930's, in the midst of a war to rival that of the 'Great War' not too far before. Arthur was taking a rest after a difficult struggle against Japanese troops. This war had caused too many casualties already, and it made him weary. He drifted into daydream, distracting himself for reality for just a little while before the damn Krauts came to strike on behalf of the Japanese he had just taken down.
Yes... the early 1700s... everything was much less complicated without politics and those nuclear weapons America was developing.
America. Alfred. Yes, his cute little Alfred.
His heart clenched painfully at the thought. After all, he had been pining all his life over that incident. Everything from the dumping of his tea up till that last showdown had pained him for so long, and pained him now. He wondered faintly why he hadn't long given up on Alfred and just hated him completely. It was a foolish, blind faith.
The Germans had arrived. It was time to push out into a fight again already. Those awful, genocidal Krauts. Never mind, his Justice was strong and genuine; the Allies would win.

- - - - - - -

Dune, people in hunger, where to go?
Torn my heart, my friend, is this what you wanted to?

Alfred pushed his hair back. The Great Depression was barely receding from it's climax and his people -- no, everyone's people -- were suffering hunger and poverty en masse. It was... depressing. Plus, Arthur blamed it on him. That hurt a lot. After all these years, that damn Brit had to keep ragging on him all the time. Bitter old man. He obviously didn't have a fiber of pity for how much it pained Alfred to listen to him. Every time they got into a fight, it wrenched at his heart. Why, after all these years, couldn't Arthur just accept the revolution and get along? It was difficult enough with the worldwide financial trouble.

- - - - - - -

No one can make my faith illusion.

"You should give it up, Mon ami, he'll never apologize for gaining independence. That's a ridiculous thing to hope for."
Arthur shook his head. Francis didn't understand anything. Alfred didn't understand anything. He wasn't gunning for anything. He had faith. Faith in Alfred. He didn't need to receive apology, or give acceptance. He was fine how he was. It wasn't just some coping technique or stubbornness either. It was no illusion. It was his simple faith in the 'someday'.

- - - - - - - -

Can stay with me? Or just go away.

It was the eve of the 21st century and it was also the breaking point. Alfred was deadlocked with Arthur in a stare, and something was going to give.
"Either be by my side, or hold onto your resentment and leave me alone. I won't fuck around anymore."
There it was. Arthur had known it would come someday. He was right. And it was time to carry out on his sense of 'justice.
"For everything that happened... I cannot forgive..."
Alfred hung his head in resignation. There it was. They would hate each-other forever now, no turning back.

You see my tears, it's doomed reunion.

"...The bad or the good."
All that happened after that was a kiss.
There was the real answer; and love was the genuine justice.