I DO NOT OWN HETALIA, OR ANY OF IT'S CHARACTERS. ;_____;
Italics are--... England's "point of view".
I won't ever forget that day. That dreadful day in July--... The day my main source of joy left my side--the day he rebelled, and all my nightmares became a reality. The rain--... it was heavy. Unnaturally heavy. Each particle that soaked my bloodied, dirtied war uniform weighed me down--slowed me to unbearable speeds... and did nothing but make me shiver, and cry--scream at the thundering, mocking skies. It only added to my horrid sorrow! It only added to my problems...! ....For eight long years I fought. I fought to hold onto what was mine, but my efforts were in vain... He was simply... too stubborn--persistent--he had grown up too fast... I couldn't handle it, and then wanted it all! His own independence...! I faltered back then. I slipped at the most inconvenient second! The pressure was too much... and he noticed it. He used it to his advantage. He saw the opening and ran for it--and eventually... got his damned independence.
There was never a time in my life before that day--never a time where I had ever felt so empty--... so scattered... Shattered. Like a glass, broken apart and strewn about... Or pulled apart and mixed around, like a puzzle.... Yes. A puzzle. That's what I am... A puzzle. Complex. Broken apart, mixed and flipped--waiting to be put back together.
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England stared down, quietly into his porcelain teacup held firmly between his fingertips, reminiscing that dreadful event. His emerald hues were far from their normal, bright fury--alive with annoyance and bottled up affection; they were fairly dull-abnormally lifeless--trying to bore holes into the glass of his cup.
Off in his own little nightmare...
Japan had noticed.
He sat just across the table from England with a puzzle piece in hand.
"I don't think that staring into that cup any longer will make it disappear, Kirkland-san..." The Oriental poked lightly. His monochrome eyes scanned the nearly-but-not-quite-complete puzzle he and England had been working on together, and pressed the puzzle piece into place. He didn't have to look up, to spot the scowl on England's face.
"O--... of course not!" The blond retorted. He snapped his eyes shut and twisted around awkwardly so that he faced the wall--rather than his guest--hastily sipping at his tea.
Typical Arthur.
Japan smiled meekly at the flustering Brit; his eyes wandering away from the puzzle over toward England before dropping back down to study the puzzle again. It was next to complete... A couple dozen pieces left, here and there. Normally it would have taken the duo fifteen minutes to finish, but with Arthur's sudden lack of interest and Kiku's slow movements, it would take much longer than necessary...
Emitting a small huff, England slowly turned back around and leaned forward, reaching across the table to pick up one of the pieces from the table--noting how the Orient looked up and watched him move. He muttered incoherently as he slapped the piece into place, connecting two larger portions of the puzzle together. And when he leaned back to study what they had done, Japan shifted to sip from his own teacup.
"You shouldn't dwell on the past," He had spoken up. He kept his eyes focused on England--spotting a slight twitch. "History is history. The scars may still be there... why open them back up, and bleed?"
For a moment, England stared, dumbfounded at Japan--as if what he had said was in another language.
It was almost amusing--Japan had to admit. Watching England tense and fumble for words... but who could blame him? He was an island nation. Isolated. Just like Japan was.
"All wounds heal, but if you keep picking at them they can't close."
Japan did have a point but... 'that day'--the feeling of "Alone"--was always looming over his shoulder--or sometimes just sitting there mocking him even when the obnoxious American was standing right next to him. Mocking him... to the point of breaking. But he doesn't. He doesn't because now Kiku is there, slowly filling what little he can.
England didn't say a word; he could feel that horrid feeling rise even more, now that it had come to the light... and slowly, he turned his eyes away from Japan, back down to his teacup. The amber liquid--Earl Grey was supposed to ease his nerves, not make make them even more tense.
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We are both island nations. We are both "alone"... You were so kind and welcoming--... Was it because you understand where I was coming from? Or--maybe you don't.... Is it just because you're just as isolated as I am? Weren't we enemies...? Will it happen again? How did it turn out this way?
All these questions will remain unanswered. I'll never ask. I'll never know. I don't want to know... Because if the truth is cruel--if you don't care, or if I'm being used somehow--I don't think I would be able to handle it. Not after losing him... Even though it was so long ago... Not after you started putting the pieces back together. The pieces of my complex puzzle... so perfectly--so carefully...
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Japan took a quick glance down toward the puzzle. Still, he had gotten no reply from England, but that was alright. His eyes were like windows--they told Japan whatever he asked whether England said a thing, or not... Maybe that was why he was so comfortable around the European. He could see if he lied so easily.
Gently, Kiku proceeded to assemble the puzzle. Slowly. Carefully. Bit by bit--with equal amount of care... until nothing but three pieces were left to fill in, and England finally moved a little. One piece was clasped between Kiku's tiny fingertips, and another was gripped firmly within Arthur's trembling hand.
Only after the Orient placed his own piece down (rather eagerly), and looked up to comment, did he notice England's expression. All the childish joy drained out of him, just like the smile fell from his face, and faded.
"England?" He questioned lightly. His thin fingers curled with concern as he stood--blue kimono rustling in faint protest. The blond twitched again at the sound of his title, his grip tightening on the tiny piece of the puzzle... subconsciously crushing the fragile thing. Japan repeated his name in a much softer tone. Slowly... this time earning himself a shaky sigh from the blond. And when it looked as though England was going to cry, everything seemed to drop into place.
With a mind filled with worry and hidden stress of his own, Kiku stepped across the carpet with quick, easy strides and came to stand next to the quivering Arthur--his slender arms coming up and lacing around his shoulders. It wasn't much--the little hug--but he didn't have anything else to offer... He was taken aback a little when he felt England tense, and in attempt to show him that it was "okay", he leaned forward and gently pressed his smaller frame against England's--the arm of the English man's chair, dividing the two.
There was a lot the little Orient wanted to ask, to say and to explain. But right now--he only assumed that the situation would worsen if he tried.
"The puzzle is almost done..." Kiku breathed out calmly with forced 'joy' as he his laid his head to rest against England's shoulder--his raven black locks brushing ever-so-lightly against the other's neck. When England failed to reply again, he pulled one hand away from his shoulders and laid it lightly over Arthur's own, where he knew the puzzle piece was.
--No one can say that he didn't try.
And slowly the Brit clued in, and complied. He opened his had gradually and allowed Kiku to guide it to where the piece belonged--the slightly bent little piece, dropping into place with a little effort.
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I'm like a puzzle...
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Japan gave a hearty smile down at the puzzle before realizing--...
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I'm like this puzzle...
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"England--... we're missing a piece." Faintly reluctant, Japan pulled away and stepped back a little to get a good look at the floor, in case they had dropped the final piece. England's eyes followed.
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Incomplete. Forever... incomplete. Put together by your hands using logic and skill--...
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"...So we are."
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Missing my final piece.
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"It's still beautiful..."
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No matter how many times I'm taken apart and reassembled... I'll always be missing a part of me. I'll always be missing him. I won't be the same. Not like how I used to be, back then... But with your hands, you can put me back together--near perfection, and still tell me how wonderful I am... You may not be able to find that last piece--my missing piece of the puzzle... but as long as you smile at me, and keep on holding my hand... I'll show you the best I can be.
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"It is, isn't it?"
-- Fin.