A/N- Oh how I have always wanted to do a Hetalia FanFic. Its me you guys! Coming to you wigth this piece just for Independence day! Happy Fourth of July everyone! It truly is a meaningful time and I thought this was a hearfelt piece. The actual battle part was taken a bit from the actual series, but, I had to work with something. Enjoy! I do NOT own Hetalia.
The man stood in the field as people around him cheered. The lights flashing in the sky seemed to flash different colors and shapes, from red hearts to blue spaceships, and various other works of art. The people stared in awe as the lights flashed and the sky boomed. Even as it started to rain on them, they sat watching in awe of the lights, in celebration of their freedom. In the field full of thousands, as the gentle rain fell, for just a moment, the man felt alone.
Flashbacks of a different time began to fill his head, ones of naivety and childlike wonder. He began to wonder when that had all really started to end, when it was he began to hate the one who had raised him. . .
Times were getting rougher and tougher for the little country just starting out. Taxes from the motherland were just ridiculous and the trade wasn't good either. The man paced the beach by the sea, a day like any other in between visits from his big brother, wondering what he should do.
"Mr. Alfred, sir!" a soldier called, making the man look up from his thoughts. He was one among many others who shared the mans thoughts at that moment. It was time for a change.
"What is it?" the man asked of the soldier. He waved to be at ease as he stepped closer to him.
The soldier seemed delighted with his decision and eager to share, "We've come up with a brilliant plan! Its bound to work! It will free us from Great Britains' ever present gaze!"
The man waved his hand, starting to feel eager at the idea before he even heard it "Out with it, man! What is it?"
The soldier nodded, as if forgetting he hadn't made his point yet, "R-Right. Our General has decided that maybe we should fight back. Free ourselves from Britain! Be our own country!"
The man thought about that, "Our own country..." They deserved everything that Great Britain didn't give them, freedom to do what they please, and make their own rules. He grinned and looked at the soldier "Great! Tell the general to ready the troops! We'll come up with a game plan, and I'll work on a letter to my big brother England." he said. The soldier smiled eagerly, saluted, and ran off to tell the others.
He couldn't believe it. The people had all been thinking the same thing he had been all along. They all wanted freedom to write their own stories, instead of having Britain write it for them. As he stood looking out over the water, towards where the great country stood just an ocean away, he wondered if his brother hadn't seen it coming.
Back at home, sitting in his office, pacing the room, the man worked on the letter. He had written and re-written it several times already, but he knew this was the good one. It stated what it was he wanted. Freedom. And how he would get it at any cost. Their would be no negotiating, their would be only fighting, if necessary. And he thought it would be necessary. His brother was not going to take it well at all. He called on someone to take the letter across the sea and then checked on the ones he had writing their document of their independence. The leaders he had to work with the people seemed to be doing the very best they could.
When the day finally came to sign it, the man thought it best to wait for his big brother himself.
Already, they could tell the motherland was not happy. After all, along with the letter, the man had sent his brother a fair few troops to leave their mark. It was official and, as of that day, they had become a new nation. The United States of America. The man smiled, feeling the wonderful power and freedom that his fellow countrymen felt. They all knew it was worth it, and they were living the dream.
Of course, it was a bloody, bloody war. The newly formed American soldiers fought for the dream they had all fought so hard to create. Even the man, Alfred, fought alongside his comrades. He saw many men fall, and many men rise to the challenge, saving each other.
He stood on the front-lines, ready for anything. "Stand strong, men!" he yelled to all the men standing beside him, "We've come this far! We can take what is rightfully ours! For the freedom of our children!"
The soldiers all cheered as they waited for the worst.
The man kept his eye on the horizon, staring hard through the rain that had started to fall, until he saw the troops start to descend on them, at the front was the familiar blond head and bushy eyebrow-ed brother he had come to know. He stepped forward, his rifle pointed out, to meet him.
"Arthur! I want freedom! And I will be free from you!" he said, pointing the rifle.
The English man looked shocked and angry at the same time, contorted into the hurt look on his face, "Alfred... why?" he asked, his rifle pointed back at his little brother, though lowered only a bit, but only so he could tell.
Alfred shook his head, standing strong against him, "You have become to overbearing and over confident. It's time I did something for myself! I'm not your little brother anymore!" he yelled.
Arthur looked more surprised now. His shock turned to anger as he glared at him and charged towards him, swinging the rifle forward. Alfred blocked with his own rifle and shoved back angrily, knocking Arthur over. Arthur caught himself before he could fall and fired the rifle at Alfreds' hands, making him drop the rifle.
Alfred looked shocked now, as he stared down the barrel to the angry and sad contorted face of the one who had raised him, the one who had taught him everything he knew. He clenched his fists and closed his eyes. He was going to stand for his freedom, do whatever It took to earn that for the people in his country.
At the same time, Arthur stared down the barrel at his younger brother, the one who taught him how to appreciate the little things in life. The one who used to be the young child that would eat his cooking and look forward to his visits. He was the one he himself had fought for and raised on his own. As the thoughts and memories ran through his head, he threw the rifle down and fell to his knees.
"I can't do it..." he cried, looking down at the ground as the rain fell harder on the back of his head.
Alfred opened his eyes and looked down at the man before him. He shook his head, "Arthur... I remember when I used to look up to you for being so strong... I remember when you would tell me your war tales and stories of victories... I remember when you were great. But look at you." he shook his head and stood up straight, "I am taking this victory, and taking my freedom!" he called.
The soldiers behind him all cheered as the man before him weeped. Alfred shook his head and turned away, walking away from what used to be, and walking into America.
The crashes of the fireworks and the lights all came to an end, then. The thousands of people around the man standing alone all cheered. The announcer called out over an intercom, thanking everyone for coming and blessing the county they lived in, just as the ran began to pick up. People scattered, then, grabbing their chairs and blankets, and rushing to their cars to get out of the rain.
But the man stood alone in the crowd of thousands.
As the raindrops hit his face, mixing in with the tears that began to form, the man couldn't help but smile. It was a long road to get where he was, and seeing all the smiling faces around him, hearing all the cheering, and hearing all the voices singing along with the national anthem, the man thought it all worth the struggle. The day he took his independence from Great Britain may have been hard on his big brother, but it couldn't have been easier on him. With one last smile, as the smoke from the fireworks disappeared, he walked off into the night, and into the rain. Just as he had walked right into America all those years before.