A word from the author: Lul! Here's another one! :D I've written a skit from this, and the skit is slightly different but somewhat the same. I feel like I don't have Alfred down as well as I should, but please forgive any mistakes.

Hetalia, Alfred F. Jones, Wang Yao('s tiny appearance), and Arthur Kirkland owned by Hidekaz Himaruya, but I wish I owned them.

It wasn't easy for Arthur Kirkland to sit down and forcibly remember anything from his past. Involving Alfred F. Jones, that is. Earlier, one of his relative Allied acquaintances had brought up the fact that neither Arthur nor Alfred had spoken to each other in a while. It wasn't odd for the two to be fighting, but Yao didn't fully understand the entire relationship, or lack thereof.

He sat in his large office, surrounded by his books and shuffled papers, relaxing in the comfortable leathered chair. It wasn't that the Brit couldn't remember, but more that he promised himself he would forget years ago. The building of friendship between he and Al, and the fact that it was knocked down for simple yet stupid reasons. With his eyes closed, repressing visions of red and blue enemy coats, he dreamt of the beginning of everything.

Enter a younger looking Arthur, with a book at his nose as he walked through his house. Behind him trailed a young Alfred, with dusty blonde hair and clothes that made it obvious the older country was taking care of him.

"I'm bored! I need something to do Iggy! I can't just sit around all day like you do!"

"Bloody hell, would you be quiet? I'm halfway through my book, and I need peace and qui-"

"I'm telling you to give me something to do, and then I'll stay out of your way!"

"You're extremely ungrateful, Alfred." The older country sighed. These sort of arguments went on daily. It wasn't that Arthur didn't want him to do anything, there wasn't much for the young boy to do. He was still growing, whether he wanted to or not. With gentler eyes, he hesitated before stepping over to the closet. "No peeking, alright?" He set what looked like a chest onto the ground in front of the now-kneelig Alfred, and sat back. "Alright, you can open your eyes."

The young boy's eyes widened, a bright smile on his face now that couldn't help but cause the older man to smile as well. "Wh-what is it?" Alfred opened the chest, and his smile grew, bubbling into laughter. "Soldiers! Toy soldiers!"

Arthur watched as he pulled out two of them. They were both a brown carved wood color, but had distinct features. The one in his left hand seemed to have a brilliant jacket with two stripes across his chest and back. The other had a similar coat, but only one sash across his chest. "I've loved these forever, Alfred. And now they're yours. You see? One of these can be you, and the other soldiers can be-"

"You?"

Arthur paused, and swallowed the lump in his throat. "And the others are the enemies. Whoever you want to fight." The young blonde looked up at him, with bright blue eyes. "You realize, Alfred, that in the future you can't just complain and expect to get what you want. You'll have to fight to get what you want."

"I'll be powerful! I'll become just like you, my own man!"

Arthur laughed, ruffling a hand through the boys hair. "You'll have to knock down whoever is in your way to do that."

"Then I will!"

A few years passed by, Arthur grew remarkably shorter, and was an older country now. He hadn't seen Alfred in a while (a few years), after their last quarrel over some political issues in England. Something about what Al thought should happen, and what Arthur thought should happen, he couldn't quite remember the details. Extremely different points though.

With his evening newspaper, a cup of tea, and reading glasses, Arthur made his way from the kitchen to the living room to sit down and glance over the paper to see what was happening. He didn't expect to hear the doorbell ring, however. "I'm coming!" he mumbled as he made his way to the door.

"Wow, you look shorter old man!"

Arthur shut his eyes tight, before opening them up again. Was this real? Was Alfred standing right in front of him? The once young boy with dusty blonde hair now stood towering over the Brit. "Shut up, you git! I'm not shorter, you're just taller!" Extremely taller, at that.

"Yeah well...I've grown a lot. And now, I have...a question." Alfred took a swift gulp, eyes darting to the side. "I've come to ask...for my own independence."

At first, he didn't hear anything. Arthur stood there, a scowl on his face as usual, before the words truly set in. His own...independence? No...he's not...serious is he? "Alfred, don't joke like that. But I'm glad you are home, I need some help."

"I'm not kidding. I've realized that..I've grown up already. I don't need you...to push me along anymore. I'm not a baby. And all I need is-"

"Dammit Alfred! Don't you see what you're doing?" Alfred stood there, confused. The Brit had gone into a slight rage now, fists curled into balls. "There's no way I'll allow this! You can't go on without me! Without me, you'd die as a nation. You can have your independence here. With me."

"I want to be my own nation, dammit! You're the one who told me that I have to be responsible for myself; that I have to fight to grow and gain power! To knock down the things in my way! I'll let you know one thing, Arthur. The last thing standing in my way, is you."

The two stood there in silence now, before Alfred reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He set it down on the floor, before placing his hands into his pants pockets. "If you won't sign this piece of paper, then I can't promise you I won't try to fight. I have an army big enough to take yours on, and I intend to go to war until I win my independence. That's all."

Waking with a jolt, the mildly sleepy Arthur felt his eyes sting with slight tears. Gathering his thoughts, he stood up and stretched. There's a reason all of that was supposed to be forgotten...I can't even go on to remember the... A knock came from the door, several knocks after that, and Arthur trudged towards it. "Who is it-"

"Hey Arthur! Thought I'd drop by with some food! I bet you get hungry when you sit up here and work!"

The Brit frowned, before lightening the expression. Not to a smile, but not a scowl either. "Come in, and I'll make you some tea."