Hai guys! Enjoy your reading, let's hope I get reviews :3 I've tried my best. Thaaaanks for Michelle, mah offline beta reader :D There is going to be a chapter 2... hopefully?
It was cloudy and there was barely any sunlight from the London sky. Arthur Kirkland, or more commonly known to other nations as England, was strolling in the streets, head looking forward without any particular target. There was going to be a world meeting tomorrow, and it was in his place this time.
It was Alfred's birthday after the day of the meeting, the day when America became independent. Arthur wasn't exactly looking forward to it, as it brought back too many memories he had tried to bury away. The American doesn't seem to notice Arthur's discomfort on that day though, as he was too hyped up about his day of independence. He would throw a party which he invited everyone, even the micro nation Sealand. Alas, aimless strolling had in the end brought Arthur back to his house.
It was situated in the outskirts of the capital. The surroundings of it were quiet, as his neighbours would be staying at least miles away. A good thing was that he would be able to get the peace he had always wanted, a bad thing would be that if he was in danger, no one would come to his rescue, unless they had supernatural hearing.
As he walked down the garden path towards his front door, he spot Alfred's birthday invitation peeking out from his mailbox. With a sigh, he pulled it out from its original spot, carefully holding it as to not crease it. After opening his white wooden front door, he left the letter on a glass coffee table, which on top of the table was hundreds of invitations, from the first party until the current party. All the letters that he had rejected the invitation. Arthur sighed again and walked into his room.
There was a small wood block and some old crafting tools on top of the writing table. He sat himself down on the old leather chair and started his work. With great concentration, time seemed to have passed without his knowing. After a great amount of detailed carvings and shaping, he finally took a good look at his newly created work.
The originally cylinder wooden block had been carved into a figurine that looked exactly like Alfred. It even had its famous flight jacket on it, colours included for various reasons. Even after decades, it seems that Arthur's workmanship skills had not lost its original quality. He grabbed a small cardboard box under his table and carefully placed the wooden Alfred in it, wrapping it up with a present wrapper. He looked at the present and had not bothered to write his name on it. It's fine, no one need to remember who gave him this present.
"Alfred had probably threw his box of toy soldiers. Or maybe he had lost it."
Arthur turned his head to look outside the window. The sky was turning into a flaming red sunset. It was somewhat soothing yet sad to see that colour, since it used to his favourite colour and it, at the same time, reminded him of the war. He stood up and brushed his hand over the crease of his uniform, slightly straightening it and went to the kitchen.
A bottle of scotch laid on the bar, as if it was waiting for him all along. He greedily poured into a cup and savoured its taste slowly. The scotch substitute for his dinner, as he wasn't bothered by the fact he didn't make any dinner. He continued to observe the colour of the sky outside.
It had already turned reddish purple as it started to rain. Guess he wouldn't go out there to water his beautiful roses today, as the rain was doing his daily work for him. He wouldn't do his paper works today as well, he doesn't trust himself to be concentrating on those right now. He was rather glad that his boss would actually understand him and sometimes even let him have a few days off, as his boss noticed the usual neat paper works were a mess during these days of the year. And so, the paper stacks had remained the same as a week ago.
When night came, it became colder from the drop of temperature outside. The coldness helped nothing with the tiredness; it only made Arthur more tired. Soon he found bliss in the dreamless sleep that he welcomed.
The morning came, and Arthur woke up early. He was an early person but not exactly a morning person. Still, he needed to get ready for the World Meeting in his place. He adjusted his tie while looking in the mirror. He looked wasted, with bags under his bloodshot eyes. His normally messy hair was even messier. He frowned at himself and washed his face again before striding out to the place of meeting.
"It seems like I'm early again." He commented to himself, as he walked into the empty room.
Staring into the space, he took no notice to the nations that proceeded to walk into the meeting room. They sat into their respective seats as they waited for the last nation to attend. As usual it was America with his "grand" entrance. And again, it was about ways to solve global warming, since the last few meetings to solve this problem had ended messily.
"Angleterre? Are you fine?" Francis asked after staring at the all-too-quiet Arthur. He was, for the first time, not actually objecting Alfred's plans of saving the Earth from global warming. Said nation was staring at the ceiling, his forest green eyes lost in his daydream. Francis could even feel the meeting being quieter than its usual self.
"Of course, frog!" Arthur seemed to have suddenly snapped out of his trance. He looked tired for a moment but he quickly turned away to look at whichever nation is speaking now. When Arthur found out it was Alfred and his hopeless ideas, he started insulting again. Francis sighed and he went back to his harassing antics, but still keeping an occasional eye at the green-eyed nation.
The meeting was finally over, once again not being able to achieve its goal from the bickering of many different countries. Everyone left as soon as possible, wanting to get a rest from the meeting in their respective hotels. Arthur and Alfred were the last ones to leave.
"Happy early birthday, you git." Arthur shoved the small present into Alfred's arms. He seemed to smile a tiny bit at him, and although it looked a bit like a scowl, Alfred smiled back his goofy smile.
"Thanks, dude! Are you gonna come my parteh this time?" Alfred asked the retreating figure of Arthur. The latter just continued to walk on as if he had not heard Alfred's question. Alfred made a confused look, but he was determined to make Arthur come this year.
Arthur had actually walked home from the building, even if it was a long trip. He didn't feel any soreness when he lied on his bed. Again, his heads were swarming with those thoughts that haunted him the whole day. He covered his face with his arm as he tried to flinch away from his mind.
He didn't need anyone. Wrong, he thought, the truth is that no one needs you.
Such a long time, he had found himself so lonely until he was actually talking to himself in the head. There wasn't any voice which answered of course, for Arthur knew if he was going insane or not. Many occasions he had wanted to cry but he found no tears, only his heart ached. He would be very quiet, but no one notices anyone.
He was just tired. Tired of having to put up with everything that was thrown into his way. Tired of having to put a mask of him being a sarcastic person than a man who was broken so many times. Tired of everyone expecting the best out of him. Tired of everyone who judged him.
Arthur Kirkland was tired of himself. Not England, for he would never hate his beloved country. He was tired of himself, as Arthur Kirkland. No one seemed to notice beyond the personification of England anyways.
Many times he would wonder about a world without Arthur Kirkland. A world if England was another better person than him. Maybe he would make it happen, but he knew he wouldn't be able to see their reactions. It didn't matter, for no one would notice.
He pulled open his bedside drawer. Inside laid a white bottle, a bottle filled with pills. Arthur slowly reached for it and took it out. He had already written a note, how long ago was the note written, he didn't remember.
Pouring out a handful, he swallowed them with a gulp. His heart ached, but again there weren't any tears to relieve the pain. He lied down onto his bed as his vision slowly blackened. He wondered if anyone would even find the note. He felt drowsy and he closed his eyes for the one last time.
Alfred was at Arthur's doorstep. He was going to convince Arthur to go to his party for the first time in centuries. He found the spare key which was commonly placed under the doormat, and pushed open the door.
It was eerily quiet; there wasn't any sound that indicated Arthur was home. Heck, even the lights are all off. Perhaps Iggy is asleep, Alfred thought as he went up the stairs as quietly as possible. He still remembered every corner of Arthur's huge house. It was like a map had been imprinted in his mind forever.
Slowly, he pushed open the bedroom door that he was so familiar with. As he walked over to the bed, he found it curious as Arthur had not wake up from his presence.
"D-Dude?" Alfred had actually found his voice trembling. He walked over to the unmoving form on the bed. He gently shook him and turned Arthur towards him. Said man didn't even move a bit from his moving. He turned on the bedside lamp and took a good look at Arthur.
He wasn't breathing.